Minor Characters VII: The Right Thing to Guide Us
by RowenaR
Summary: It was supposed to be a boring, bland babysitter mission for SG-10. It ends up in a different reality. Oops.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Okay, this is the first chapter to that new story I promised and yeah, it's the one I consulted a theoretical physicist for. Since he actually kinda saved this story before I even started writing it, I'd like to thank him. Any scientific bogus stuff in this story is solely my fault so I hope there's not a lot of that to begin with :D

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**Minor Characters: The Right Thing To Guide Us**

"_The right thing to guide us  
Is right here, inside us  
No one can divide us  
When the light is leading on  
But just like a heartbeat  
The drumbeat carries on."_

_Nickleback, "When We Stand Together"_

**One**

_Moore_

"So, to conclude, Major Moore, Captain Greenspan, Sergeant DeLisle, your job will mainly be reinforcing the guards at the perimeter around the lab while Lieutenant Reece's job will be helping the science team figuring out anything in Ancient coming up during their research. Any questions?" Mhnope.

Oh, wait, yes, _I_ do have _one_.

Why, in _God's_ name, has it to be _my_ team that has to go to P8G-739 to babysit a few fucking crazy scientists doing God knows what on a godforsaken planet God knows where? It's not like Reece is the only linguist in the entire SGC who knows a sufficient amount of Ancient to help some nerds to figure out where to switch something on and off. We're a _Black Ops_ team, for Heaven's sake. Artifact retrieval, hostage liberation, covert ops. _That's_ our thing. Not fucking _babysitting_.

"Major? Anything to add?" Damn General Landry. Way too perceptive for a flag grade, that guy is.

I resist straightening up and just shake my head, doing my best to look like I never even missed a beat. "No, sir. Team's ready to go on your mark."

Landry nods and throws me a look that says that he knows very well how pissed off that assignment is making me but I guess it's just punishment for effectively telling him to leave my team the _hell_ alone after our _kind_ of rogue rescue mission for Dee two months ago. I'm starting to get a feeling that I must have pissed him off even more than he let on. It _has_ been two months since we got the last mission actually suited to our profile. I wonder if there's a coincidence? "Very well, Major. Departure is at 0900. Get yourself and your team ready. Dismissed."

We get up and leave the room and one, two, three… "_This_ is all _your_ fault, mister."

I stop and give Laura a slightly annoyed look. "Last time I checked, _Captain_, it was still _Major_."

She growls and both Dee and Reece amazingly manage to look remarkably undisturbed. What happened to awkward and wishing to be anywhere but here, guys? "I don't fucking _care_ what it is, Tom, because if we get _one more babysitting mission_ because you just _couldn't_ listen to me only _once_ in your life and _had_ to go and invoke a fucking _General's_…"

"Uh, actually, I think this time it might be my fault?" What do you mean, _this_ time, Kid?

Also, what do you mean by "your fault", precisely? "Uh, care to elaborate, Lieutenant?"

Now she does look a little uncomfortable, which is how I know that there must be a God, after all. Seriously, I'd been starting to worry that she might have finally fully lost every respect for me she still held. She clears her throat. "Well, you see, in the last couple weeks, a lot of people with usable knowledge of Ancient _and_ off-world clearance volunteered for the Pegasus Expedition and they just shipped off another bunch to Antarctica for familiarization and training." Yeah, so? "And the rest is either already off-world, in the infirmary or on vacation. So… yeah, I really was the only suitable linguist they could find." I swear to God, I _will_ have her examined for psychic skills next opportunity I get. This is getting downright scary. "Um, sorry? Sir?"

I… don't believe this. Actually, I don't even know which of those things I should start not believing first. It's just… she just… she… she just spoke up. I mean, I should be used to her doing it by now but usually, she doesn't get herself together so amazingly fast after opening her mouth without being spoken to first. Also, I'm pretty sure she never used that weird undertone that sounded as if she's a primary school teacher explaining something patiently to a third-grader, before. And, lastly, _what does she mean there were no other linguists available_?

"Please don't tell me that the SGC – _this_ SGC that is always overflowing with people knowing a weird-ass ton of languages – is _short on linguists_ who do _not_ belong to Black Ops teams and so are very well available for any kind of shit job involving a bit of reading stuff to physicists?" Mh. That probably wasn't exactly the right tone to speak to her, was it?

She presses her lips together and I almost expect another outburst like the one she had when I was stupid enough to tell them to lay off looking for today and which resulted in a nice shiner for me. But then she says, in that same third-grade teacher voice, now with an added strain, "Yes, sir, I just said exactly that. And I hate to remind you but practically all of those "people knowing a weird-ass ton of languages" available at the moment do _not_ have off-world clearance. Far as I remember, the SGC is _strictly_ forbidden to send anyone without off-world clearance to other planets."

A_ha_! "You just said _practically_ all of those people available didn't have…"

"Meaning, sir, that _I am the only currently available linguist with an actual active non-restricted off-world clearance_. Oh God, I can't believe…" Whoa. Uh, I… "Seriously, I just…"

"Maureen." Oh what, _now_ you decide to intervene, Laura? _After_ my Lieutenant just practically _yelled_ at me right outside the briefing room?

"I've told him _twice_ now and he just won't believe me." Hey, I'm _right here_. "What the hell am I supposed to do, Laura? Put it on a post-it and shove it in his fucking _face_?" _Hey_!

"Maureen, really, let's just all…" Ah, Dee, nice of you to join the conversation now, why don't you?

"No, let's not." Oh yes. Yes, _let's_. "Seriously, I'm…"

"Let's all gear up and meet up at the gate room in fifteen." There, that was my best attempt at diffusing a really weird, tense situation, ever since stepping between Lorne and Williamson after Williamson proposed to young Anna Lorne.

Uh…

_Why_ is no one moving?

Oh, seriously?

"That was an _order_. Get fucking _moving_." Reece just gives me another glare but Laura grabs her by her upper arm and drags her into the direction of the women's locker rooms. At least sometimes, Laura can actually be of some use in commanding this team. Have to give her credit for that, at least.

Well, that leaves us guys and I catch Dee giving me a look that pretty much expresses my sentiment at this entire exchange. I frown at him. "That was pretty weird, huh?" He shrugs. "Hey… you wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?"

He shakes his head. "No, sir." Yeah, well, as if he'd divulge any of Reece's weird secrets, anyway.

I roll my eyes. "Had to ask. Now come on, I wanna get to the gate room before them, I'm still intent on winning that bet from two months ago."

And without further ado, we're finally on our way to the locker rooms. At least we'll get to do _something_ soon as we get on that planet.

_Reece_

Oh God, I am so screwed. _Why_ did I just do that? _Why_ did I nearly yell at my fucking commanding officer? _What_ is the goddamn _matter_ with me? _How_… "Okay, Maureen, what's going on with you?"

Yeah, of course she'd ask that _right_ before a mission. Granted, it really is just babysitting but couldn't she have picked a better moment? One with more time to think? Because frankly, I have _no_ idea. So, naturally, I try to feign ignorance. "No idea what you mean."

"Mhm," she says and clips on her flak vest, "sure. You totally didn't notice that you just nearly punched Tom in the face again. _Right_ in front of the briefing room."

I check a strap on my backpack, totally _not_ to evade her gaze. "I did _not_ just nearly punch the Major in his face. You must have imagined that."

"You mean like you just imagined all "that weird tension between you and Dee, Laura, you really gotta do something about that"?" Ah, shit, she got me there.

I clip on my flak vest and force myself to look at her after all while hoisting up my backpack. "Look, I just… I don't know. I guess I'm just getting tired of all those babysitting missions, too."

She looks like she doesn't buy it – and she would, as I now realize, be right with that – but she lets me off the hook in the end, hoisting up her backpack and then checking over her rifle one last time. "Alright, just… try to tone it down, okay? We're all a bit on edge and you know how Tom gets when he has jack to do for too long."

Grateful for her not deciding to dig deeper, I just nod and grab my rifle before exiting the locker room to jog down the hallways towards the gate room. While we make our way there, I feel a bit guilty for not telling her about my suspicions as to what is _really_ causing all that irritation.

Ever since that department wide meeting two months ago, Dr. Gutierrez, my immediate superior in departmental matters, doesn't stop pushing me to decide whether I want to go to Atlantis or not. The expedition is supposed to leave in four weeks and she keeps telling me that there are still two spots open and how someone with my "unique qualifications" – meaning that I'm a linguist who can hold herself in a fight and doesn't have any legal attachments or commitments back on Earth – should really, _really_ consider going. I also suspect that she thinks being on a non-scientific gate team is detrimental to my academic and professional development and that, let's just spell it out, the Major in particular is the reason why I still don't have even _considered_ grad school.

What a bunch of _bullshit_, seriously. As if Major Moore would _actively_ prevent me from attending grad school. I've looked it up, there's a program at the University of Colorado that's tailored for the specific, well, let's say "needs" of a Marine wanting to serve on a gate team while furthering her education and when I mentioned it briefly three months ago, he _didn't_ immediately shoot me down. No, it was _me_ who decided to wait at least another year before deciding if I wanted to take on that workload _additionally_ to gate team duties or if I wanted to take a break from the SGC and go back to school full-time.

And still I can't stop wondering if I'm not making a mistake in continuously turning down Gutierrez's offers. Enough, actually, that I haven't really been able to sleep a couple nights now and yeah, it's starting to wear on me.

Anyway, I guess Laura's right in asking me not to antagonize the Major any further. We're all on edge, for whatever individual reason, and jumping at each other's throats at any given moment isn't gonna solve it, so I just buck up and hope that we get a moment before stepping through the gate in which I can apologize… nope, forget about that.

When Laura and I reach the gate room, the event horizon is already established and the Major and Dee are waiting for us. Dammit, they're about to win that stupid bet we made at that barbecue at Major Lorne's. I can't believe they're actually taking that shit seriously. We'd just been into the second bottle of vodka and it had been 0200 when we decided on that thing. Honestly…

"Ah, how nice of you to grace us with your presence, ladies." You know what? Forget about that apology. He'll never get any of that _now_. Asshole.

Even Laura seems sufficiently pissed off by now, because the only thing she says before stepping up on the ramp next to him is, "Try not to, Tom."

Thank God, the "SG-10, you have a go," from behind the observation room's windows keeps him from digging himself in even deeper and instead of replying, we all step up to the event horizon and he's the first one through the gate, like always. Oh well. Off to another fun babysitter mission.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Ah, hey, that was fast. Coulda been faster but yeah, uh, _things_ came up, so it took me a bit longer and... I'm not really happy with it, since it feels like a filler chapter and I really, really _hate_ writing filler chapters. I hope you still liked it, though?

PS.: Each and any Age of Sail references are solely the fault of the lovely **pingulotta** :D

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**Two**

_Greenspan_

Oh God, that was probably the worst gate ride I ever had. I don't even know how any of that can happen in the seconds between stepping into the event horizon and exiting it on the other side but Jesus, I'm really glad I didn't have more than a cup of coffee and a croissant this morning.

I had a rough time when I went through the Gate for the first time but I _swear_ it's never been as bad as this. I really don't remember puking my guts out after my first Gate ride, so there.

Anyway, now that that's done and I managed to rinse my mouth with water and ignore the gnawing headache that's still lingering, I can at least take care of the rest of the team, obviously having gotten no better deal than me. Or at least Tom and Dee didn't but I've already looked over Maureen briefly and _she_ seems to be mostly okay. Not that I'm jealous or anything but damn, why didn't _she_ get to throw up, too?

My next candidate is Tom since Maureen immediately went over to Dee to check up on him and he seems to be doing fine after she pushed him into drinking something. Tom, on the other hand… well. I'd really like to be sympathetic but all that comes to mind at seeing him throw up for the third time is, "Serves you right, _Major_."

He glares at me before doing some more dry-heaving and then collapsing on his ass and putting his head on his knees. And staying like that. I snort. "Yeah, no, that's not gonna work." No reaction. Oh come on. "Tom, I need to do a check-up. And believe me, cooperating will make this a _lot_ easier for both of us."

A groan. Then looking up and _finally_ submitting to my check up routine of pulse, temperature and pupils. _Why_ does he have to make it so _hard_ all the time? Seriously, if he hates being looked over by medical personnel so much, why did he even bother with bringing me on the team in the first place?

But yeah, he's fine, as far as I can see, and I walk over to Dee – I really wish I wouldn't have to get any closer to him than two feet but then again, that's my fault so I buck up and do it – to do the same with him. Maureen, on the other hand, pretty clearly doesn't need any looking over, at all. She's not even half as pale as any of us anymore. If I weren't her friend, I'd be green with envy now. It really isn't fair that the least experienced member of the team gets away so lightly, really.

"Hey, Kid, how come _you_ didn't puke your heart out?" Right. Tom doesn't have any of those qualms, though, _obviously_. That _was_ a pretty vicious glare.

Maureen, for her part, just looks back at him – and I'm _positive_ that she was just _this_ close to telling him he fucking deserved it, too – and states amazingly calm, "I'm a Marine, sir. We happen to serve on ships occasionally. Motion sickness tends to get in the way."

Wow, that was a pretty good… "Did you swallow a fucking Jane Austen novel this morning, Lieutenant?" Okay, Tom didn't think so.

"Sounded more like Patrick O'Brian to me, sir." Huh?

"Nah, more of a C. S. Forester girl, myself, Sergeant." What? "And _no_ lobster jokes, unless _you_ want a shiner, too." _What_?

Why is Dee laughing like that and _what_ are they talking… "God, I hate book nerds."

Now, that wasn't very nice, Tom. I mean, ever since they discovered they both read those blasted Harry Potter books, Dee and Maureen can, _occasionally_, be kind of irritating as soon as someone mentions books – really, just _any_ book is enough – but yeah, it's not _their_ fault that you generally regard books as a waste of time. Idiot. I roll my eyes at him. "Pretty sure someone already told you that but at least _sometimes_ reading a book could…"

"Am I the only one who thinks something isn't right about this place?" Huh?

I blink, first looking at Dee – probably for the first ever time since our ill-fated bike tour two months ago – and then at our surroundings and… he's right. I frown. "Yeah, shouldn't there be someone here greeting us?"

"We _should_ be seeing the lab from here," Maureen adds and… she's right. The area around the Gate is mostly plains and the lab containers were set up only a mile's walk from it, so we _definitely_ should be seeing _something_. Instead there's… nothing here. Nothing except rolling plains and a couple trees in the distance.

Okay. Something went wrong here.

And finally, Tom deigns to grace us with input, as well. "Dial the Gate to Earth and hail the SGC, Lieutenant. Whatever is going on here, I'm not going anywhere until someone back home explains to me what the fuck just happened."

Maureen, being the closest to the DHD, nods and gets up from crouching next to Dee, to dial the Gate back to the SGC. As soon as the event horizon is established, she sends our IDC code and, after hearing an unfamiliar voice – wasn't Sergeant Harriman at the controls when we left only a couple minutes ago? – ask her to confirm her identity, she says, "Lieutenant Maureen Reece of SG10. We're requesting assis…"

"Please state your name and unit, unidentified trespasser." The hell?

Maureen looks back at us, frowning but Tom nods at her to try a second time. "This is First Lieutenant Maureen Reece, SG10…"

"Negative. Lieutenant Reece is not an active member of SG10. Please state your…"

"Hey, listen up buddy, I have no idea who _you_ are, but _this_ is Major Thomas Moore of SG10 and _what_ are you _doing_?" Ah, of course that would happen. Sickness always leaves Tom short-tempered and yeah, whoever that is on the other end of the wormhole, they just made his day by providing him with an outlet. At least that means he won't take it out on any of _us_.

There's silence from the other end for an uncomfortably long time, until the unknown voice says, "Stand-by for a MALP and following security team coming through, unidentified trespasser. Put down any weapons and await the team with your arms raised and ready to be searched."

This is a _joke_, right? This is some sick joke that Lorne thought up for getting back at us for playing that prank at him and his team on our last babysitter mission, right? This _has_ to be a joke.

I'm about to protest but to my astonishment, Tom actually nods at us and gestures for us to disarm, before he taps his radio. "Acknowledged. SG10 standing down and awaiting further instructions."

Then I can see him… switching off his radio and gesturing to us to do the same. We all follow suit and he uses the time before the MALP gets through the Gate to say, "Whatever this is, I want it over without too much fuss. So let's just do what they tell us to do, for the time being. Pretty sure we'll still have time to step it up, after all."

The funny thing about Tom is that ninety-eight percent of the time, you'd never guess that he's a highly qualify Special Forces officer. Sure he's an expert shot – fucking sniper, and I'm still not fully over discovering _that_ – and can remain unnaturally calm under fire, he knows his infiltration shit, can hack into anything even remotely resembling a computer when he feels like it… but the two percent when you _actually_ realizes that he has a past in Black Ops is when he decides, wholly against his usual character, to _do as a potential thread tells him to do_.

In the case of this particular potential thread, the first thing coming through the Gate is in fact a Mark II MALP rolling towards us. Well then. Let the fun begin.

_DeLisle_

So, at least they weren't kidding about anything they said. The first thing they did send through was Mark II MALP and we're all required to individually step in front of its camera and let it look at us from practically every angle – kinda glad they don't let us do handstands, too, as gymnastics never was my biggest forte, after all – until they're calling up the next. I'm pretty sure the Major _nearly_ flipped them the bird when it was his turn and it's a real achievement that he didn't. He definitely has matured a lot in the last couple years. Really, just a year ago, he'd have done it and then proceeded to simply walk through the Gate to whatever is on the other side.

Anyway, as soon as we're done with the inspection, the security team – eight heavily armed guys in body armor I have never seen in my life, what the hell – steps through the Gate, their pulse weapons – whatever happened to ordinary assault rifles? – trained on us. I consider sharing a look with the Major but I'm pretty sure I know well enough what he must be thinking. Since, you know, I'm thinking it, too. _Something is really, really wrong here_.

Before any of us get to talk to the security team, though, they move in and… _hey, what ever the fuck did I even do to you, asshole_? Why in God's name are they yelling at us to get on our knees and are forcefully subduing _any_ resistance… and _why_ have _four_ of them singled out Maureen and are keeping all their firepower trained singularly on _her_?

"Hey! Hey guys! Stop harassing my…" Yeah, that was to be expected. Even Major Thomas Moore's maturity only extents so far. Astonishing how often Maureen Reece is involved in cases when it has reached its limit. And of _course_ he just _has_ to get himself beaten up again. Why did I even ever invest any time in properly training him? "Would you just _stop_ that? We're belong to the _good_ guys, okay?"

I don't have a feeling they believe him, to be honest. The fact that the one guarding him just neatly rammed the butt of his rifle between the Major's shoulder blades _might_ have something to do with that. And did I just hear a faint sigh from Maureen?

However, before I can risk a look to check on her, I can hear one of our guards say into his radio, "This is Fullert. The situation is under control, medical team may proceed." _Medical_ team? What _medical_… The event horizon ripples for a third and oh, hey, that's a face I recognize!

Dr. Paranovsky steps down the dais, a weird unreadable expression on her face when her gaze falls on Maureen for just a moment, before she beckons one of the nurses – now, if that isn't Lieutenant McIntyre, the nurse the Major used to date a couple months ago – over to assist her with what looks like drawing blood from all of us. This is really not becoming any less irritating.

They start with Maureen, taking a vial from her left arm and I have to admire the grace with which she bears everything. I can see that she's both annoyed and frightened but that's mostly because I've learned to read her. At least _one_ of my trainees turned out alright. I can rest easy then.

After they get their blood, I can see Lieutenant McIntyre pulling out something that looks like a portable microscope and Dr. Paranovsky turning to use it on the blood she drew. After a short examination, she moves on to Laura and then to the Major. None of them put up much of a resistance and I have a feeling that in the Major's case it's mostly because he'd never want to be outdone by his little Lieutenant, even after a year of working with her. I'm still not sure if his predictability in that matter is a blessing or a curse.

And then, finally, I'm the only one left to be tried on and after one last round of that strange procedure, Paranovsky nods at the guard still holding down the Major and tells him, "They're all human. Let's get them back to the infirmary for more conclusive tests."

Oh. Good. _More_ tests.

And could _someone_ please talk _to_ us instead of _about_ us? Or just, you know, _stop manhandling us_? God, I should have quit the moment after Laura kissed me. I should have asked her to quit with me. At least we wouldn't be in this mess, now. And it's _definitely_ a really, really big mess.

Because believe it or not, I'm starting to suspect that we managed to land ourselves in some kind of alternate reality, and honestly, I could have done without _that_ particular SG team training standard situation.

Well. At least we're moving again, so I resign myself to my fate for the time being and march up the dais towards the event horizon. It can't get worse than this, anyway, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So, huh, new chapter. Kinda short and still feels like more of a transition chapter but I do have a plot, I promise! It just uh needs some coaxion to come out and play with me, I guess O_o

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**Three**

_Reece_

You know, I thought I was really lucky this time. Instead of puking my guts out and being plagued by unholy headaches, that rather uncomfortable Gate ride left me nothing more than a queasy feeling for a few minutes and a bit of dizziness. I even felt pretty much vindicated at seeing the Major fighting against the aftereffects of a rocky Gate ride, and the aftereffects clearly winning. It _did_ serve him right.

But ever since we entered the SGC – not _our_ SGC, that much is plain to see now – there's been a nasty headache building up behind my forehead and I have some real issues trying not to continuously pinch the bridge of my nose continuously. It's getting _really_ annoying.

Right now, we're in the briefing room above the Gate room. Before that, we spent an entire hour in the infirmary, being poked and prodded at and I'm pretty sure my left arm veins are now permanently useless for future use to draw blood. And yeah… it didn't exactly get better.

Since we were ushered in here, the conversation mostly consisted of Major Carter, General O'Neill – apparently, he's still commanding the SGC in this reality – and Dr. Lee arguing about how the hell we could have gotten here, without something called a quantum mirror and all that. Mostly, it's a lot of science talk and I guess it's the Major's bad influence that made me want to fall asleep right in the middle of it as soon as it started.

Speaking of the Major… _why_ in _God's_ name does this reality's version of him _keep fucking staring at me like that_? He probably thinks that it's all secretive and everything but that guy ceased to be unreadable for me about four weeks after I came into his team. I don't even know how to describe the looks he keeps throwing me, just that they're making me really uncomfortable. So… _intense_ and… I just don't know. It started the moment we met our counterparts – or you know, the Major, Laura and Dee met theirs, seeing as _I_ am apparently _dead_ in this reality – and it never… stopped. I just…

"Lieutenant Reece?" Huh?

I resist the temptation to clear my throat. "Yes, sir?"

"Are we boring you?" Oh, good. I just caught the attention of Jack O'Neill, and not in a good way. _Again_. Good job, Lieutenant, good job.

Anyway. I guess simply telling him yes is out of the question, huh? And telling him how much _being stared at that by my CO's doppelganger_ is fucking with me isn't a good thing to answer either, is it? I try not to sigh. "No, sir. I uh… I just need to process all that input. Sorry, sir."

"Yeah, well, you'll get enough time to work through it since you'll all be given the information you need compiled into neat little packages and we'll call you again when there's anything new on your situation. You'll be confined to base until further notice. Dismissed." Confined to base. I can already see the joy lighting up in the Major's eyes. And by that I mean misery and malcontent.

But yeah, even this reality's O'Neill seems to know his people well enough to raise his hand and forestall any argument from either team. "Any of you lost their hearing? SG10… SG10s, _Dismissed_."

And yeah, immediately everyone except Carter and Lee scrambles up to leave the briefing room, both teams keeping to each other while we file out of the room. Outside the door, a pair of SFs are waiting to meet us and there's a very weird, uncomfortable moment in which this reality's SG10 – or what is left of it, anyway – just stare at us and we at them until the other Laura clears her throat and grabs both her Dee and Major's sleeves to drag them with her after giving us a nod and mumbling something like "Scuse us". And just like that, it's only us and our SFs left in the corridor.

"Well," the Major says after another moment of weirded out silence, "at least it's only confined to base instead of quarters." We all turn to give him a dead-pan look we _all_ only reserve for him and he feels compelled to add, "What? Am I the only one who could eat a fucking cow after being told there's currently no way to get us home safely?" Another dead-pan look, mixed with raised eyebrows. "That's what I thought. Come on, mess hall's this way, at least in our reality."

Right. Mess hall it is.

_Greenspan_

So. At least the mess hall is where it's supposed to be. And hey, they serve mostly the same shit uh food that we usually get. There's even tough as leather Solsbury steak, totally my favorite among the stuff that passes for food around here. There. Whatever. We gotta be grateful for the small things or something, I guess.

And hey, no one's bothering us, either. Which, granted, might have something to do with the two SFs guarding the table – or, you know, _us_ – but at least they seem to discourage people from staring at us too _openly_. Well, okay, staring at _Maureen_, because guys, we're not _blind_. We _see_ you.

"So, was it just me or was that guy practically drilling holes into you with his eyes, Reece?" I look up from the sorry excuse of a steak on my plate to see Tom looking inquiringly at Maureen. Or, you know, _drilling holes into her_. "That guy", my _ass_.

I can't help it and snort, after all. "Nah, you weren't the only one noticing your interest in Maureen."

That makes him stop staring at her with his eyebrows raised and concentrate on me instead. Good. "Very funny, Laura." Aw, come on. It _is_ a little funny how he looked _exactly_ like you whenever you're trying to go for unreadable. "Anyway, did _anyone_ of you understand a _word_ of what Lee and Carter were going on about?"

We all shake our heads, various expressions of incomprehension on our faces. I wasn't exactly an abstinent recluse at the Academy but I'm _pretty_ sure I'd have remembered taking Multidimensional Physics 101, even with a couple of alcohol-induced blackouts, especially in Third Year.

Across the table, I share a look with Dee – I should just stop doing that because every time I do, I remember how it felt kissing him and how much I'd _really, really like to repeat the fucking experience_, no pun intended – but before either of us can say anything, Maureen beats us to it. "What, _exactly_, is a quantum mirror, anyway?"

Huh? Oh, ahaha, yeah. I clear my throat. "I knew we forgot one part of SGC standard situations." Incomprehension is written all across her face. Right. "Kinda forgot all the alternate reality stuff."

"Yeah, no problem at all," she dead-pans, "since I'm getting a total hands-on experience here. Yay." I _saw_ you, Tom. You nearly snorted with laughter. You _like_ it when she's all dry and dead-pan and sarcastic. "Still doesn't explain the quantum mirror stuff."

I'm about to tell her the scraps I remember from _my_ Introduction To SGC Standard Situations We All Really, Really Want To Avoid, Dee beats me to it. "A quantum mirror is an Ancient device to jump between alternate realities. We had one in our reality but General Hammond had it destroyed in…"

"1999, after some weird ass stuff with an alternate Carter and some guy named Kawalsky. Kinda forgot what exactly happened but ever since then, alternate reality traveling was pretty much theoretical on our end of the galaxy." Aw, look at that. Tom actually _does_ remember _something_ from three days worth of old mission reports and anecdotes, and I really mean _three entire days_, as in seventy-two hours. Look at what that guy can be put to, if he really wants to.

"Yeah, I totally feel very much theoretical, right now." Maureen, it seems, really does take this whole thing personal and… oh good, on top of everything, our doubles just entered the mess hall. And… practically all conversation also ceased. What do they think is going to happen, some weird high noon last stand "There can only be one SG10 in this town" Western kind of thing or something?

Okay, uh, there _is_ one really weird moment when we each just kind of stare at each other, until the other Dee clears his throat and says, sounding eerily like _our_ Dee and totally _unlike_ our Dee, "Uh, anyone mind if we add another table and sit down?"

That, at least seems to break the tension somewhat and I get up to pull my chair to the side to…

Good _God_.

Jesus fucking _Christ_, what in God's name…

Pain. _Fucking pain so bad pain pain…_ _black and pain and_…

"Easy. Doc's coming every minute, don't worry." I crack open an eye, fighting against a blinding headache and looking into my own face, peering down at me from above. I blink again, trying to process what I… _she_ just said to me.

Then it hits me. Of all the things I could comment on, that _one_ thing hits me. "Aren't _you_ a doctor?"

My other self grins at me apologetically and I realize that I must be lying on the ground, her fingers on my neck, feeling my pulse and when she shines a flashlight into my eyes, the headache's nearly strong enough for me to miss her telling me, "Not a _real_ doc, just a paramedic, sorry to disappoint."

"Huh," I hear myself say, my tongue still feeling strangely heavy in my mouth, "love to hear _that_ story some day." And then… there's blackness again and God, am I grateful for that.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I'm currently hating my fellow humans but don't worry, that will pass. In the meantime, have a new chapter, including two of our favorite SGC women \o/

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**Four**

_Moore_

You know, I actually thought I've had a couple rough missions before. There was one in Russia that left me with an ugly scar and a debt I can never repay, one in Bosnia that left someone else owing his life to me, one in Afghanistan… well, you get the picture. Anyway. I _swear_, I never had an awakening as disgusting as right now.

The tongue in my mouth still feels too thick for some reason, there's an ugly taste like bile in the back of my throat, the remnants of a sickeningly strong headache make me want to… "Sir?" And… Maureen Reece? "You awake, sir?"

Okay, that's not so bad, actually. Especially because I'm pretty sure I could detect some real worry in her tone. That's gotta be new. Huh.

I try to crack open an eye, seeing as I'd actually like some visual confirmation for my speculations based on her voice and oh God, fucking infirmary lights. I _hate_ those things with a passion and I can't believe they'd really be the same stupid degree of brightness as they are in our reality. But then again, that was probably to be expected from a place where the food is as bad as it is back home.

"Sir? You okay?" Ah, right, Reece.

With some effort, I manage to crack open both eyes and sit up with a minimum degree of squinting and swearing. After another moment of my eyes adjusting to the bright lights above, my first real gaze falls on Reece, sitting on a hospital bed opposite mine, still in her uniform and obviously not affected at all, safe probably from the _real worry_, I'm pretty sure I just saw in her eyes until she realized that I mostly regained my sight. Right. Something's weird here.

Alright, whatever, time to test my other senses. "Yeah," I try experimentally and it doesn't sound so bad, after all, "mostly, I guess."

There's an odd gleam of relief in her eyes, before she hops off her cot and walks a couple of feet, to peer beyond the curtain they apparently used to cordon off wherever in the infirmary I am right now and a little muffled, I can hear her say, "Major Moore's awake, ma'am."

For some reason, I'm waiting for Laura walking through that curtain but instead it's one Janet Fraiser, in all her Napoleonic glory. Janet Fraiser, the only doctor I ever managed to be afraid of enough to never even _think_ about questioning one of her orders. I really hope the bastards around here know how fucking lucky they are to still have her.

She walks up to my bed, one of those disgusting little flashlights in her hand. As I look past her briefly, I can see Reece standing around in the background, again with that weird worry written all over her face until she realizes that I just saw her. Reece? _What_ is going on with you? "How are you feeling, Major?"

Right, Dr. Fraiser. I shrug. "Pretty much like crap."

It earns me one of those disapproving little pursing her lips thing that I seem to inspire in practically everyone even only loosely affiliated with health and safety specialities and… ah shit, there goes the flashlight again. Is that some trick they teach them at medical school? How to subdue your patients in five seconds and less without having to use outright force 101 or something?

"Ma'am?" Oh come on, Reece, since when have you started to _care_ about me?

Probably ever since we switched bodies but let's all just pretend that never happened, alright? So…

"He's fine, currently, but I'm afraid our theory just got confirmed." Theory? Confirmed? Huh?

Reece frowns, looking decidedly unhappy. Can someone _please_ explain to me what's going on here? "So, they're really suffering from this entropic… cascade… failure thing?"

Entrp… oh no. Not _that_ crap. Please someone tell me it's _not_ entropic cascade failure?

Fraiser, of course, just _has_ to nod. "Yes, every read out and lab test confirms it."

"And I'm unaffected because in this reality, I don't exist anymore?" Hey! Right here! I'm sitting _right_ here!

"Exactly. So…"

Okay, that's enough. "Excuse me, _Doctor_, but what happened to "the further away the realities are from each other, the bigger the chance of entropic cascade shit"? Did the Goa'uld take over the galaxy in this one or what?"

Before Fraiser gets to answer, the curtain flaps another time and probably _every_ SGC's resident technobabble specialist Samantha Carter ducks inside, with the words, "No, but the replicators are still pretty close to it." Uh, what? "It's… a long story, Major." Right. They probably aren't allowed to tell us anything, anyway.

And you know what? There are a things that are a lot more important, anyway. "So where's the rest of my team?"

Fraiser and Carter share a look that's… relieved? Huh. Seems like they really _aren't_ allowed to tell us more about this replicators are close to taking over the galaxy thing. Called it! "They should be waking up any minute now, Major. We'll brief all of you together as soon as they're ready for it."

With that, she gives me a nod and goes on behind the next curtain while Carter and Reece stay. I'm already planning on spending the next five to a hundred-and-twenty minutes in awkward silence when there's some movement on the other side and a pretty grumpy sounding Greenspan groan – believe it or not, she's a worse patient than I am, even if she'll deny it to her grave – shortly before Fraiser removes the curtain that separated our beds. And hey, look at that, Dee's also awake. Yay for an entirely awoken team.

Theoretically, I know I should just keep quiet. Believe it or not, most of the time, I'm absolutely aware of what I should or shouldn't say, and _basically_, I adhere to that. Just, you know, not _all_ the time, because that would be boring. Which is why the first thing I do upon seeing Laura waking up from probably the same seizure induced blackout that I had, is grinning at her and saying, "Morning, Greenspan. Sergeant. Hope you both feel well rested after your little nap."

So, I guess I deserved that pen sailing past me dangerously close to eye-level but damn, it was worth it. Seriously, the only thing you can do in a situation like ours is _try_ not to let it get to you too much and that's exactly what I'm… "Is he always like that?"

Oh, hey, look who found her way over to what is probably the current entertainment in this infirmary. Laura "Not a doctor" Greenspan. I'm pretty sure… "What, yours isn't?"

…please someone tell me this reality's Greenspan and my Lieutenant haven't already become chummy, too? _Please_? "He used to be, anyway." Huh. Did I detect a weird note of wistfulness in that? I wonder…

No. No, I don't. I'm not wondering about whatever happened to this reality's Reece because I'm not interested in it. But that was in another country, and besides the wench is dead and all that and please don't tell anyone that I know a line from one of Christopher Marlowe's plays or people will start thinking I remember anything educational besides how to hack into anything only remotely resembling a computer and expect me to behave like it.

Anyway. Not interested in what happened to this reality's Lieutenant Reece because it won't happen to _my_ Lieutenant Reece, whatever it was. Because _I_ am not gonna let my Lieutenant Reece die. No fucking way.

Because, you know, I have this general rule of not letting _any_ of my teammates die. It's really as simple…

"Major?" Oh. Uh. Why is everyone looking at me like that? "You with us?"

I refrain from clearing my throat. "Of course, ma'am." _Technically_, Samantha Carter isn't my superior, and this reality's Carter even less, but yeah, a little boot licking never hurt.

Sadly, Carter still keeps throwing me one of those "Don't try to bullshit me, idiot" looks she seems to have perfected, probably during the years of serving with intellectually underachieving male officers – like, hey, me – who all surpassed her on the fast track and then simply goes on, "So, as you're now all awake, here's what we have concluded from preliminary research." Oh God, please no science babble. I still have a lingering headache and… "Since you informed us that you have no quantum mirror and told us that you started out in your reality but ended in ours after a Gate jump, we concentrated our research on anything having to do with Gate travel." Okay, that's pretty much a no-brainer, even for me.

But yeah, I figure it's probably better if I keep stuff like that to myself and let Carter continue. "And, uh, we came up with nothing." Oh _good_. That's what highly qualified astrophysicists are here for, isn't it? Just fucking… "Except one thing but so far, it seems more like a straw than anything." So what? Straw's better than nothing, isn't it? "Just about the same time you said you entered the wormhole in your reality, one of our sensor arrays gave us some weird readings coming from the area around the planet you landed on." Okay, weird reading meaning… "We're not sure what it is yet because we first dismissed it as a malfunction but it gave us a point to start so we'll keep investigating in that direction."

And…

And? Major? What… "Uh, that's all I have for you, sorry."

I'm _this_ close to actually groaning – and, judging from their faces, Laura and Dee aren't that far away from it, either and even Reece looks even more disconcerted than she already did – but this reality's Greenspan manages to save our asses by simply saying, "Thanks, ma'am. Permission to inform the rest of my team?"

Carter just nods and Greenspan gives her a short two finger salute and us an awkward look before she ducks out of our curtained off zone. "So, if there aren't any more questions…" We all shake our heads and it's kinda funny to watch the mighty Samantha Carter being weirded out just a little by one of the lower echelon Gate teams. "Well, I'll get back to work, then. I'll let you know as soon as we made progress."

With that, she leaves our little cozy cordon as well, so it's just Dr. Fraiser left, who promptly tells us, "I know you're probably not going to like it but Major Moore, Captain Greenspan and Sergeant DeLisle, you will all have to stay here for the time being."

Aw, no. "Doctor, could you please…"

"No, Major, I can't. We have no idea of the extent of entropic cascade failure that we are dealing with here yet, and I'm not letting any of you walk around the base when there's the very real danger of you collapsing with a seizure at any given time." Wow, way to give a guy some hope, Doc. Your bedside manner's _excellent_, in _every_ universe. That's really…

"Ma'am, if I may ask… would it alright if I join the effort to deduct the extent of entropic cascade failure we're dealing with here?" Right. Of course. And Dee and I are supposed to be… what? Your guinea pigs or something? Fraiser doesn't look too happy, either and presses her lips together again but Laura seems to have found an opening for not being left _wholly_ out of the loop and adds, "I'm a medical doctor, ma'am. USAFA grad, USU med school in Bethesda, internship at Walter Reed, the whole nine yards. Scout's honor, ma'am."

Oh God, I can nearly _see_ how much Laura is clamoring for _something_ to do while we're practically interned here and I swear, if Fraiser doesn't agree with her proposal… "Fair enough, Captain. But you will be under medical supervision at any time." Laura just nods, which shows _how_ much the thought of just sitting here and waiting for another seizure to hit is eating away at her. "As for you two: you are to stay here, _no_ buts from either of you." Damn fucking doctors.

Pretty sure Dee just thought the same thing when we both yes ma'amed her but, like any good little soldiers just waiting for the next best opportunity to leave the infirmary, we both nod and, since she doesn't seem to show an inclination to leave, I feel compelled to add, "Ma'am, I'd like to request a chance to speak to my team." She nods but still doesn't show an inclination to leave. Dammit. "_Alone_, ma'am?"

I'm _pretty_ sure that if I weren't some guy from a different reality, she'd probably just busted me down a rank or two but since technically _she_ isn't my superior in any way, she just says, "Permission granted, provided Lieutenant Reece informs the infirmary staff as soon as your condition changes." She looks at Reece questioningly and I just now realize how much it grates on me when someone who isn't even from our reality thinks they can order any of my subordinates around. Especially when those people from different realities all seem to have one issue or the other with the fact that _Lieutenant Maureen Reece fucking exists_.

Reece, being the good little Marine she occasionally still is, tells Fraiser, "Of course, ma'am," and thankfully, that seems to be enough for the doc to finally leave us alone. _God_, I can't wait to get back home, seriously.

_DeLisle_

"Okay," the Major says, "talk to me, guys."

"We're fucked." Trust Laura to be the one saying out loud what everyone else is thinking.

"Okay, uh, thank you for your contribution, Captain." And trust the Major to dismiss that very concise summary regarding our current situation right off the bat. "Any other insights?" Well… no. I shake my head, same as Maureen. "Thought so." So… "Now what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Isn't that kinda… _your_ job?" Oh, not that again. Not the whole "It's _your_ job to get us out of here" – "Shut up and do something productive for a change, Greenspan" thing again. Like, every other mission they get into that debate and it's starting to get on my…

"Sure is. But can't a guy ask for help sometimes?" Okay, who is that and what did they do with Major Thomas Moore? Because _that_ is not what his reaction to "Isn't that _your_ job?" is supposed to be. "Come on, throw me a bone here."

Right. I guess he deserves _someone_ giving him a _little_ more than just "We're fucked." I guess this is where I come in. "First rule's probably not to antagonize the locals."

That makes the Major and Laura snort and even Maureen – even quieter than she usually is, ever since we came here – give me a short slightly rueful grin. "Alright," the Major tells me after the amusement died down, "very funny, Sergeant, I'll give you that. Other bones to throw from the lot of you?"

I'm slowly starting to realize that he isn't just doing this because he's out of ideas – which he, despite everything, totally is – but also to gauge the mood among the time. _And_ to lift said mood. Smart move, sir.

Laura tries her luck again. "I'll work with the medical personnel here, see if I can wheedle out more about what's going on outside the compound of them."

He nods at her, almost appreciatively. "Okay, fair enough. Dee?"

Ah, fuck. "I'll keep you entertained, sir?"

That makes him roll his eyes. "Ah, great, first Reece swallows a Whatshisname book, then you swallow a clown." What? _Someone_ needs to do that and since it's always been my job, anyway… "Kid?"

She perks up and was she lost in her thoughts _again_? That's _not_ her standard performance. "Sir?"

He seems to have noticed it too, narrowing his eyes just for a moment and probably _dying_ to comment on it but for some weird reason he just leaves it at, "I want you to work as a liaison to the personnel outside the infirmary. Not just Carter and O'Neill, the lower echelon guys, as well. Enlisted, junior officers, you know what I mean. Talk to them, and, even more important, _listen_ to them, that kinda thing."

She nods. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Apparently, acting as what is essentially spying doesn't seem to bother her as much as I thought it would. Huh.

"And I want you to be our go between with the other SG10." Well, that makes sense.

Only, strangely, Maureen doesn't think so. At _all_. "Sir, I'd rather not… I don't think…"

"It wasn't a suggestion, Lieutenant." Right. I guess by now he finally has gotten to know her well enough to know that the only way to forestall an argument from her is to order her to do something. Guess that's the Marine in her.

I can see her literally swallowing down whatever she was prepared to give him back and instead only going with, "Understood, sir." The Major nods and looks as if he's going to add something but she beats him to it. "Permission to retreat to my quarters, sir?"

_What_ is going on with her? It's like ever since we came here, she's been thrown back an entire year. It's like she hasn't been on this team for a year and displayed a surprising amount of stubbornness and resistance against the Major. It's as if she slipped right back into her Mouse mode from a year ago. I wonder if the Major… "Permission granted, Lieutenant." Huh, maybe he has. Just when she nods and turns to duck out of the curtain around our infirmary space, he tells her, sounding weirdly _caring_, "And try not to forget to eat again and get some sleep, Kid."

I mean, okay, he actually sounded a little grumpy but there was a weird undertone suggesting that he was just doing that to cover up that he _worries_ about her. I throw Laura a quick glance and she sure as hell heard it as well.

Even Maureen must have heard it, judging from the way she pauses for a tiny moment and a little smile creeps on her face before she nods, gives him a "Yes, sir," and ducks out of our cordoned off area.

Okay. One, two… "Is it just me or is something really bothering her?" Yeah, well, you nailed it, Laura.

I'm about to tell her so but the Major just growls, "Sure as hell was those stares that idiot was throwing over to her in the briefing room. Gonna have a word with him as soon as he shows his stupid face here."

Sharing a look with Laura again and oh God, she's _dying_ to tell him that it's _his_ stupid face as well but in a probably gigantic feat of self-control, she manages to say, "You know, maybe it's also the fact that she's _dead_ in this reality? Feels weird, doesn't it?"

It does, actually. I risk a look at the Major, see if I can gauge his feelings on the subject _now_ – when they first told us that, he'd managed a pretty good poker face – and he doesn't disappoint. It's very short and nearly invisible but I can see clearly that he's not as casual about the whole thing as his answer suggests, "Well, _she_'s not dead, so there's no reason to freak out about it." And with that… the topic seems to be close for him since the next thing says is, "Okay, so… anyone got a deck of cards with them? Otherwise, I'm probably gonna die of fucking boredom in this hole."

Oh God, I swear I didn't want to laugh but I just can't help snorting and grinning and yeah, I guess he's right. For once, there's nothing either he or I can do and I'd really rather lose at poker to keep him occupied than having to deal with whatever mess he'll fabricate if we ignore him. Which, I guess, means trying to dig up a deck of cards here somewhere. So, let's see about that.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Alright, I know I took my time with this but since I'm finally done with the first draft of the Paper From Hell and could tear myself away from my new favorite toy, Pinterest, I have a brand new chapter for you! Not convinced by it but I'll leave it to you to judge it :)

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**Five**

_Reece_

Whatever it is, this whole compound isn't good for any of us. Maybe it's something in the air or whatever but something's really messing with us. Or, at least, it's sure as hell messing with _me_. Ever since stumbling in here, I can't shake the feeling of being slightly out of phase, as if I'm not really here and I guess that's exactly what's going on.

Not, you know, in anything that manifests physically are whatever you'd want to call it but… okay, I'm becoming esoteric here. Just, that's what it feels like and it's making me _insane_. Okay, that and… being accompanied _everywhere_ by a pair of stoically silent SFs and a trail of barely veiled curious glances along the way. I've been here for less than twelve hours and all I really want is to go _home_.

And all, you know, _all_ Major Carter told us was "We basically got nothing" and if not even _Samantha Carter_ has any idea how to get you home, you're really, really fucked.

Okay, I guess there's no use in dwelling on it and yeah, like my mom used to say, when in doubt, sleep on it. So, after finally getting something to eat, I decide to head for the temporary quarters they assigned me here and try Mom's remedy for everything. Maybe it'll work _this_ time.

Or _maybe_ I'll just go to the roots of this and ask Major Carter if "feeling out of phase" is even scientifically possible.

Mh. That _definitely_ sounds like the better plan of the two. I stop and my accompanying SFs stop in the exact same moments. What are they, fucking replicators? I resist the temptation to clear my throat and summon my inner US Marine. "Sergeant, change of plans. Where can I find Major Carter's lab?"

I'm pretty sure I just saw the guy blink before answering, "Down the corridor, third door to the left, ma'am," and it's probably the Major's fault how much I just enjoyed trolling the most stoic SF I ever encountered.

And hey, I'm not even finished yet. I try Laura's patented expecting look. When there's no reaction except a very slight frown, I add, just this side of impatient, "What's the hold up, Sergeant? Let's go."

I'm _pretty_ sure he just wanted to tell me in no uncertain terms where I can shove that order but if I have learned _anything_ in a year on SG10, it's that the brazen will inherit the fucking earth, so I get over myself and take the first step towards Major Carter's lab… and for some reason, that actually helps to completely feel like myself, if only for a very brief moment. Or maybe just to give me at least an illusion of control, whatever floats your boat.

Anyway, the point is, we're making headway to Major Carter's lab and I finally have a purpose besides playing spy for my team here. I don't actually _mind_ being a spy, since gathering intel seems to be crucial in our current situation but yeah… I like doing something productive more, at the moment. Minimum outcome is, it'll help me stay distracted long enough that I can focus on _something_ else besides feeling out of phase and like the curiosity of the week, maximum outcome is finally _getting_ somewhere.

When I reach her lab, the door is open and I can see her with her head down over a laptop and furiously typing, backspacing and typing again and it's really ridiculous how I only now remember that in the year I have been serving at the SGC, I haven't exchanged three words with _our_ Samantha Carter. Nope, for me Samantha Carter was like some fabled celebrity, so huge and ultra-smart and ultra-dedicated and ultra-competent that it felt as if she weren't even real. Closer to a unicorn than to a fellow officer and all that.

_What_ in God's name made me even _consider_ talking to her on a one on one basis, even if it's "only" another her in some other reality? What am I even doing… ah, shit, she got up from her laptop, to use the blackboard behind her and just saw me lurking in her doorway. "Oh, Lieutenant, didn't see you there. Anything I can do for you?" Right.

I try not to pull a face and instead answer, "As a matter of fact, yes, I was hoping that maybe you could help me with something, ma'am."

She smiles and looks inquisitively at me. "Alright. I seem to be stuck here anyway, so… come in."

Well, I wasn't exactly planning on _that_. Actually, I'd fully expected her to tell me that she's busy figuring out how to get us home and could I please bother someone else with my questions? And then she goes and gives me that kind of perky smile and asks me inside. If I hadn't known it before, this would be the moment when I realize that yes, this _definitely_ is an alternate reality.

Not that our Carter doesn't seem to be a perfectly nice kind of person but the chances of us ever being in the same room like right now are probably microscopically small. And no, I'm totally not fangirling over a woman I don't even know.

Anyway, I do take a step inside immediately being followed by my escort. Who gets succinctly waved off by Carter, accompanied by the words, "That'll be all for now, Sergeant. You can wait outside, it's alright." Behind me, I can hear both of them turning on their heels and exiting the room and Carter gestures at me, telling me, "Would you please leave the door ajar, Lieutenant? Seems like everyone's getting really busy today and well, you know how it is."

I do, actually and the more Major Carter turns out to be a decent and completely normal human being, the more I feel compelled to act extra correctly, doing everything the way it's expected of Marines and all that. It's starting to make me uncomfortable how friendly she is and I'm kind of glad that I hopefully won't ever be in a position to meet our Carter like this. I'd probably die of excitement asphyxiation or something.

Okay, less fangirling, more professional behavior. I do as she tells me and when she offers me a seat next to her, I'm doing really well to pretend that I'm doing this every day of the week and twice on Sundays. "Alright," she says after I sit down, "what's your issue, Lieutenant?"

Great. Now I have to find a way to telling her about something that seems borderline psychotic without appearing to be borderline psychotic. Good job, Lieutenant. You're really doing great, so far. "I, uh…" I clear my throat. I don't think I ever sounded as squeaky as that, not even when I was around Major Moore during my first months on the team, "I don't know if you're even the right person to ask this," go on, Reece. Make a mess of yourself in front of Samantha Carter, why don't you. "I just… keep having this feeling as if I'm slightly… slightly out of phase." Not trusting myself, I can't even look her in the eye. "Does that even make sense, ma'am?"

She doesn't answer right away, takes her time. Frowning, she then says, "Yes, it does. Might be psychologically motivated," aka I'm a nutcase, "or it might be some kind of echo from this reality's Lieutenant Reece's presence, possibly because it's only been three weeks since she died."

…aka I might _not_ be a nutcase? Huh. I frown. "Is that even possible, ma'am?"

Carter shrugs. "Might be. I can't remember there being much research about cases like yours since entropic cascade failure in people with still living counterparts is much more common but I wouldn't put it beyond impossible that because your counterpart hasn't been dead for very long, there might be certain remnants of her presence, possibly in molecular form, lingering on that cause a very, very mild form of entropic cascade failure that leads to you experiencing what you described as feeling "out of phase"."

Uh, what? Oh wait, maybe I got it. "In other words… I'm being haunted, ma'am?"

It makes her crack a very small smile – I wasn't trying to be amusing, just putting it into words a humanities major can understand, okay? – but she nods. "That's a more poetic way to explain it but yes, that's essentially correct."

It's my turn to shrug now. "I'm a linguist, ma'am. "Essentially correct" translations of concepts that are difficult to translate are my specialty."

Her answer's a small chuckle and a grin. "So, anything else I can help you with?"

The first thing coming into my head was to tell her no and be on my merry way to a bed and a few hours of staring at a very familiar unfamiliar ceiling but then again… there _is_ one thing that caught my attention during the briefing in the infirmary. "Well, yes, ma'am." She throws me a "do go on" look and I comply. "I was wondering… what was that straw you spoke of in the infirmary? Those sensor readings you'd initially classified as a malfunction?"

"Ah," she makes and then presses her lips together, before going on, "we're still not sure if we shouldn't continue classifying them as a malfunction since the likelihood of this being genuine is not exactly high." That wasn't my question, though. "Since if we _don't_ classify it as a sensor malfunction, everything points to it having been a gamma impulse." Yes… so?

She just looks at me as if that explains everything. Which it doesn't. That's not _really_ helpful, ma'am. I try not to sigh _and_ not to sound too stupid as I ask, "What exactly is a gamma impulse, ma'am?"

Now there's a moment of surprise on her face and then just a _bit_ of embarrassment when she realizes that she just expected me to know something no linguist program in the entire _world_ teaches. She needs another moment and I just _bet_ she's furiously trying to dumb it down for someone who never saw a college physics lab from the inside. Then, "It's basically… it's an energy peak, a… _gigantic_ energy peak, happening somewhere in the universe."

_Right_. That… That _is_ actually helpful. I'm starting to have an idea. But yeah, I really need check a couple things first so as not to embarrass myself in front of Her Astrophicistness herself. I honestly can't imagine a great many other things that would be worse. I clear my throat. "_How_ gigantic, ma'am?"

That makes her grin and I can _see_ her nearly starting for the blackboard, probably to write down every equation needed for calculating how big of a boom could produce whatever a gamma impulse is. "Really enormously, ridiculously… Big enough to cross into a different universe." …really? "Was that what you were asking?"

Huh. "Yeah, I uh…"

Her grin grows bigger and now she does jump up and walks over to the blackboard, erasing everything she put on it before while talking. "Well, that makes sense. What doesn't make sense is what could produce an energy spike of _that_ magnitude?"

Expectantly, she looks at me and I feel myself blushing. Hopefully, this Samantha Carter isn't the kind of person to make the "Isn't blushing against the regs for Marines?" joke I have heard a _thousand_ times by now. "I'm not sure, ma'am. I, uh…"

"What were the scientists on the planet you were supposed to go to trying?"

I'm _pretty_ sure I'm not supposed to tell her that, since the Major very successfully managed to skip that question every time it seemed to come up in our initial briefing here. But then again… science! Also, you know, _getting us all home_. "Charging a nearly depleted ZPM, ma'am."

She frowns. "ZPM as in… Zero Point Module?"

Wait, they don't have any of those here? Oh God, maybe I shouldn't have told her that, after all? I just wish _someone_ would have properly briefed me on alternate realities travel etiquette.

Yeah, well. I couldn't turn back now, even if I wanted to, so all I do is nod and tell her, "Yes, ma'am."

Incredulity written all over her face, she seems to swallow and then gets a weird kind of glimmer in her eyes. Uh-oh. "You… you have a device that can actually harness Zero point energy?"

Oh God, oh God, I _really_ shouldn't have told her about the ZPM. At least an alternate reality isn't time travelling or I'd be _really_ fucked now. I clear my throat again. Might as well tell her the whole thing, since I'm probably dead now, anyway. "More or less, ma'am. But most of those we found were depleted or nearly depleted."

She nods a little absentmindedly and remarks, "Makes sense to try and recharge one."

Yeah, well, there's just one tiny thing, though. "Your counterpart in our reality said the probability that it would work is…"

"Nearly zero, yes, I think so, too." Apparently, some things never change. That's kinda comforting to know. "_But_ if they were trying to prove her wrong and then something went wrong and they…"

"Overloaded it?" Why did I just say that? Why do I keep embarrassing myself in front of senior officers? "Is that even possible, ma'am?"

"Yes…" she says, nodding slowly but then her face… it just kinda lights up. _What_ is it now? "Lieutenant, you're brilliant."

I… am?

No, haha, wait, nope, I'm not. I'm _definitely_ not. "No, look, ma'am, I'm just a linguist and… all I thought was that if ZPMs are basically considered batteries, the worst thing you could probably do to one was overcharge it."

She's positively _beaming_ at me now. "Correct deduction, Lieutenant. You probably just saved your team's lives. You _are_ brilliant."

Didn't I _just_ tell you the opposite of that? "No, I'm… I just…"

"Never mind." Not? Okay, uh… "I think I have an idea how to get you home." Wait, you do? "And that's thanks to _you_." It is?

"Well, I… uh… glad to help, ma'am?" I'm really not sure what this is all about but… Samantha Carter just called me brilliant. Even if it's not true, it's gotta be worth _something_, right?

She's still beaming and it's starting to get disconcerting. But then again, I do recognize that look. Every linguist worth their salt who ever solved a particularly trying language puzzle looks _exactly_ like that, no joke. Or okay, at least I probably do. Gotta ask Laura… "Good job, Lieutenant. Let me just make a few calculations and then call General O'Neill."

With that, she turns around, starting to write down symbols and letters and alarmingly few numbers on the blackboard and just when I decided that it's probably better to leave since she'll have forgotten about me ever having been here in the next five minutes, she turns back and starts explaining whatever is on there and I don't understand a thing except, "We're going to get you home, Lieutenant, I promise," but yeah, that's enough for now. Thank God.

_Greenspan_

You know what would really help? What would really, really help?

Aside from _not_ being stuck in an alternate reality and periodically suffering from seizures, I mean.

Anyway, it _would_ really help if people would actually, you know, _let me help_. But instead of letting me analyze our EEG results, CT results or at least fucking _blood work_, they're having me read my way through this SGC's rather scant collection on entropic cascade failure related symptoms. On paper. In a windowless room. I'm fucking _going up the fucking walls_. This is exactly why I volunteered to help. So I _wouldn't be doing that_.

Okay, I need to calm down. Jumping at anyone's throat won't get anyone anywhere and I just really need to focus. I'm good at focusing. Put myself all through the clusterfuck my domestic situation was when I was ten and high school and the Academy and med school by focusing. Deployment, testing out of Regular Air Force, SGC training to get cleared for going off-world, focus, focus, focus. Focus on the right things, the good things, the things I want. I'm good at that.

Except, you know, when all I'm allowed to do is sit around _reading goddamn useless papers_.

Alright, this is getting me nowhere. I really should… "Going stir-crazy, ma'am?"

I really should remember that I'm still in a potentially hostile situation and that letting down my guard might equal fatal failure. But yeah, thank God right now only this reality's Erin McIntyre snuck neatly past my situational awareness. I lean back and allow myself to massage the bridge of my nose. "Maybe."

She snorts and reminds me way too much of the Erin McIntyre I usually work with. Honestly, if things aren't that much different here, why are three quarters of my team being fucked over by the physics powers that be? "You could join them," she adds to her snort and jerks her head towards where Tom and Dee are playing another round of the most pointless poker game that was ever played.

After following her jerk and watching the two of them – even after over a year of seeing them working together it's weird to see how attuned they are to each other, hard to imagine there's anything they _don't_ know about each other – and contemplating to join them after all for at least a full minute, I just shake my head. So close to Dee in a secluded environment, even on duty, while Tom who's probably starting to catch on to whatever's lingering between our Sergeant and me is close by? "Not… that much of a good idea, Lieutenant."

That takes her a little aback and I just _bet_ she's not allowed to say anything but can't help herself anyway because she more or less blurts out, "Oh, you got trouble with your guys? I know the Cap and Sarge have something…" and then trails off, her blush painfully visible under the harsh infirmary lights.

And damn, for a moment I'm tempted to dig deeper into what "the Cap and Sarge" – I presume she means my counterpart in this reality, and Dee's – are having, seeing as that would be _another_ similarity between our two universes. But yeah, they way she blushed, she's not gonna reveal anything else about whatever's going on between "the Cap and Sarge". I try not to sigh. "And you can't elaborate on that, I know."

She shrugs, shaking her head a little apologetically. "Wouldn't be fair to talk about them behind their backs." Mh, yeah, and that is that.

Okay, maybe… a different road? "I also promised I'd do my share of work to Dr. Fraiser so… that's what I'm doing here." Or rather trying to but she doesn't need to hear that. She probably already gathered from observing me as she sure as hell was supposed to do on Fraiser's orders, anyway.

"Making any headway, ma'am?" Not a question I wanted to hear.

I shake my head. "None, at _all_. That's a new one, even for me." Since usually research gets me _some_where at least, even if it mostly consists of staring at lab results and swearing loudly until sudden inspiration hits me. "Everything here says that entropic cascade failure is supposed to increase the farther the two realities are _away_ from each other. But everything I learn here suggests that aside from a few dissonances, things seem pretty much the same here."

Come on, take the bait, it's there, right in front of… "So… you're also still battling the replicators and are one step away from disclosing the program to the pub… shit."

Right. _Goddammit_, I'm good. "You weren't supposed to tell me that, either, huh?"

She shakes her head, actually going as far as rubbing a hand over her face in embarrassment before mentally shaking herself and probably prepping herself to get a grip on herself. I'm almost sorry. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I just… please tell me that you've been through the same kind of Black Ops training shit the Cap claims to have gone through." Interesting that "getting a grip on herself" included "abandoning all caution" with this Lieutenant. Then again, Erin was always a bit too forthright when put under enough pressure.

And seriously, _Black Ops training_? No fucking way in hell. Unless restrictions on women in combat specialties aren't a thing here as well, my counterpart _must_ have been bragging. Black Ops, my fucking _ass_. "No, sorry, no Black Ops training for me." At least none outside the SGC, and everything I got inside the SGC was directed solely by Tom and Dee when they started giving us more and more assignments demanding skills they don't teach you in Regular Air Force units. But yeah, I didn't need any Black Ops training for wheedling those few bits she gave me out of her, anyway. I just used to have three older brothers, until I stopped talking to even the last of them when I was fourteen. Some skills, a girl never forgets.

No use in telling her that or wheedling her for more, though. So, not wanting to put her through revealing even more crucial stuff, I try to go a different road. "So, what's your connection to the team?"

She shrugs. "I'm friends with the Cap. On my first week here, we had two foothold situations and I wouldn't have survived the second one if it hadn't been for her. We work together occasionally, usually doing the combat medicine orientation for the newbies and the refresher courses for the perms."

Hey… that's not such a bad idea, actually. Okay, so my original background isn't in emergency medicine but yeah, I got plenty of experience in the last year and I remember our reality's Erin McIntyre to be a decent nurse, fearless in combat situations and not so bad with teaching. Weird that I didn't get that idea long ago. "Sounds nice. What about the rest of them?" Yes, okay, I admit it. I want to know if she was stupid enough to date Tom, too. Seriously, I totally appreciate Erin McIntyre as a professional and as a person but _God_, what had she been thinking when she agreed to going out with _Tom_? "Have you ever… you know…"

I've even stooped low enough to throw a telling look towards Tom and she follows it, frowning… and then immediately shuddering. "_God_, no! Don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough guy but… no. Nuh-uh." Right. So that's probably the one big difference – you know, aside from the fact that _the Stargate program is about to go public here_, for whatever reason – and… "'Side from that, no one with eyes in their heads would even try it." Okay, he's an idiot but he isn't exactly _ugly_? "Everyone could see that he was head over heels…"

"Okay, everyone to attention, there's some share worthy news!" Rrright. _Just_ when she was about to reveal whoever was this reality's Tom's newest object of desire, alternate Carter decides to crash the party, apparently Maureen in tow and… General O'Neill. _And_ this reality's SG10.

Alright… what is going on here?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Alright, uh, sorry for taking so long for the next chapter. I have a feeling that this story and I don't see eye to eye for some reason but I hope you still like it. Also: thanks so much to everyone who still keeps reading after... a couple years, and a special thank you to **ButterflyN** who faithfully keeps reviewing my stuf. Thank you so much, everyone!

* * *

**Six**

_DeLisle_

Share-worthy news, huh? Yeah, well, anything is better than having to cheat and letting the Major win another mostly useless poker game. Okay, it's not like I had to cheat during _every_ game but I had to keep the score even and that's pretty hard if the Major's so obviously somewhere else with his thoughts. It's not often that it happens but I can still spot it from a hundred yards away. And right up until Major Carter came into the infirmary with Maureen, General O'Neill and our counterparts in tow, he'd been broadcasting boredom as if he were a lighthouse in a clear summer night.

It's kinda stupid how proud I am of him for how fast he switches from genuine and annoying as hell boredom to professional alertness.

Ah, and there's Laura, back from the shed they parked her in to… do whatever doctors do to research with nothing but paper and Lieutenant McIntyre in tow. I can't resist throwing the Major a look to see how he reacts but he seems to be fully intend on hearing whatever Major Carter has to tell us. Okay. Well.

"So," I hear Carter tell us cheerfully, "you should consider your Lieutenant for promotion, Major. She's pretty smart for a Marine."

Uh, what?

Okay, several things. First, why is Maureen blushing and trying to fade into the background behind Carter, two, that was probably not a good thing to say for Carter, judging from the look on the alternate Major Moore's face – some weird thing between dark, moody, and pained – and three, what exactly _does_ Carter mean?

"Yeah, occasionally she happens to be, Major. So?" And _that_ wasn't a good thing to say for the Major, since now both Maureen and his counterpart are glaring at him. Maureen, I can understand – let's just be honest here, on this team, the girls are definitely the smart ones – but alternate Moore looking like he's going to go for the Major's jugular any moment? That's weird.

"So she gave me an idea how to get you home." Ah. That explains Maureen's attempts at melting into the wall.

"Which… would be?" Sir, I don't think it's a good idea to get all pissy at Carter. O'Neill doesn't seem to take well to that, and neither do our alternate versions.

Or, you know, Carter. "Patience, young padawan." Now Maureen looks like she needs a little timeout because she's dying with suppressed laughter. And quite frankly, I could use that timeout, as well. I honestly can't remember anyone ever telling the Major to fucking go and take the backseat so casually as Carter just did. And I haven't ever seen him so taken aback with it. Funniest thing I saw all day, I swear to God.

Intriguingly, both Laura and her alternate self seem to think the same. Huh, that is… "Come on, Carter, ignore the padawan and get to the point. And in English, please?"

I honestly wonder if there is any reality in which Samantha Carter ever snapped at constantly being reminded to dumb stuff down. "Certainly, sir." So, this one probably isn't going to be the one in question, but she seems to be awfully close to it. Huh. "Okay, after a conversation I had with Lieutenant Reece, I have a pretty safe theory of how to get you all home." Well, that's good, isn't it? And please do _not_ interrupt her with asking her to define "pretty safe", sir? "Basically, what we need to do is reverse the event chain from the point you landed in our universe back to your point of origin."

Okay, that doesn't sound too complicated. Yet, anyway. Both my team and the alternate versions seem to share my skepticism. Good to know. "According to Lieutenant Reece's information, your original destination was most probably destroyed in a gamma impulse caused by an attempt at recharging a ZPM backfiring," cue the Major throwing Maureen a dark stare and Maureen raising her hands in a apologetic gesture, while alternate Moore stares darkly at both of them and really, what _is_ it with that guy and Maureen, "which appears, to me, to be the focal point in the deviation of your original course."

"Okay… uh, wait a minute, just a recap to see if I got everything right." Goddammit, sir. No more interrupting Major Carter, _please_. I honestly don't want to scrape your charred remains off the wall after General O'Neill and Major Carter both had their go with laser eyes or something at you. "Crazy scientists tried to do something that, according to our Major Carter, doesn't even work, crazy scientists blow up a planet and probably parts of the space time continuum or something, crazy scientists got us stranded here and you want to… _duplicate_ that?"

Honestly, for a guy who loves playing dumb so much he puts even our version of General Jack O'Neill to shame, the Major's pretty smart. I mean, I always knew that, it just always throws me off completely when he _doesn't_ try to hide it. Carter, for her part, seems to think the same because for a moment, she even lets herself slip enough to give him an appreciating look. Which, in turn seems to make both Lauras want to break out laughing again. Good Lord. "That's pretty accurate, yes. Aside from the space time continuum thing because it really doesn't work that way, more like…"

"Carter."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Well, that was impressive. I once had the great fortune to witness our O'Neill trying to get our Carter back on track and it was nothing as succinct as that right now. Newfound respect for the Old Man here. "So, yes, that's exactly what we need to do to get you back to your original universe."

There's a moment of silence and I'm _pretty_ sure that _both_ Major Moores are _this_ close to blurting out something about this being an absolutely crappy plan but apparently, Laura saw it, too because she beats both of them to it with a very calm, "What are the odds of this actually working, ma'am?"

Oh, good, I nearly quoted Han Solo without even thinking about it and from the very short look she just threw me, she damn well knew that. Shouldn't have let her rope the Major and me into a Star Wars marathon the week after she became a permanent team meeting. She's goddamn _evil_.

Carter, for her part… "Well, according to my calculations, it's not impossible."

_Very_ diplomatic answer. I clear my throat. "But the chances aren't exactly great, either, ma'am?"

She makes a face. "No plan is completely foolproof, Sergeant." Yeah, okay, true. I honestly can't remember _any_ plan _ever_ surviving past the first seconds of hard contact. "But it's the best one we have. Acquire a ZPM, set up a remotely controlled failed recharging, send you through the Gate at the right moment… mostly, it's a question of timing."

Right, okay… "So, when you say "acquire a ZPM", please don't tell me that you don't actually _have_ one." Ah, good, Major Moore asking the one question everyone else in this room didn't want to hear.

"Well…"

_Moore_

It's a dumb plan. One of the dumbest I ever heard.

So, naturally, it's exactly the plan we get. We only always get the really dumb plans. Just fucking great. And Carter just evading my question about not having a ZPM here isn't making it any better. We're fucked three ways from Sunday. Of _course_ we're fucked three ways from Sunday. We're… "We don't have one. But, thanks to the rather impressive memory of your Lieutenant, we know where to find one."

Oh goody, Reece told them where to find a ZPM. After telling Carter _way_ too much about our mission objective, she also told them where to find a ZPM. Which is classified knowledge. _Which_, most probably, also pertains to alternate realities.

And which, unfortunately, I can't even kick her ass for, since it seems to be part of the only plan they have on how to get us back. God, I hate it when she makes the right decisions without consulting with me first. I get up and ignore the woozy feeling building up behind my eyes. "Alright, so let's go get that damn thing."

"_You_ won't be going anywhere." Oh great, it speaks! And oh God, is it creepy to hear my counterpart say that in the exact same voice and tone _I_ would have said it.

Also, who the hell does he think he is, huh? "Hey, you don't have any right to…"

"Major Moore is right… Major. You and your team will not go anywhere for the time being, Dr. Fraiser's orders." Oh not that again, sir. I'm fine, we're all fine, just a bit of a constant headache and feeling dizzy now and then and… "No, whatever you wanted to say, I don't want to hear it. The planet in question is in Replicator territory and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone who isn't fully cleared to go off-world go near that."

Replicator territory. The goddamn ZPM, the one the entire plan hinges on, is in _Replicator territory_? We'll never fucking gonna get home. Did I mention that we're fucked three ways from Sunday? "Luckily, SG10 here volunteered for a retrieval mission." Huh? We didn't… oh, wait. That _other_ SG10. Right. _Great_. "Don't worry, Major, it's not their first rodeo." Haha, _funny_, Carter. "Oh, and Lieutenant Reece volunteered, too." Hahahaha, even funnier! Last time I checked, they didn't _have_ a Lieutenant Reece and…

Oh. Oh no. Haha, _no way_. "Absolutely fucking not."

And now I finally know why Reece kept trying to melt into the background all the time. That wasn't due to modesty – which she also possesses, yes, yes – it was _shame_. She fucking felt ashamed of volunteering without my permission and she goddamn _should_. She should _not_ be saying, "I know I should have asked your permission first and…"

"Damn right you should have." There's _no_ reason for _everyone_ in this goddamn room staring at me as if I just kicked a helpless little puppy. She's a _Marine_, for fuck's sake. She can handle a fucking justified reproach. "And in case you were going to do so now: permission denied, Lieutenant."

"Sir, it makes sense." Apparently, she also has finally acquired a Marine's complete lack of an instinct for self-preservation. "I…"

"I said _no_, Lieutenant." Is that really so hard to understand?

"But think about it, sir." Hey, which part of no didn't you _get_, Lieutenant? "I read and write Ancient and I have the gene."

Oh, as if _that_ is making it any… Wait. "…what?"

"I'm… an ATA gene carrier, sir." She… what? "I got tested two months ago, like the rest of us and I tested positive for a natural ATA gene expression. I… it's in my service jacket, sir. Pretty sure that it's in there."

She… got tested. Two months ago. I mean we all did. And all tests came back negative. Didn't they? Didn't… for the life of me, I can't remember seeing anything in her records indicating that her test _didn't_ come back negative and… why didn't anyone _tell_ me that? Why didn't anyone tell me that my linguist actually practically qualifies a hundred percent for the stupid Atlantis Expedition? At least, if I had known, Gutierrez bothering me with "could you please talk to her, as her superior, it would be a real chance for her, I'm sure you wouldn't want to her to miss that kind of career boost, huh?" would have made a _lot_ more sense and… why is everyone still staring at me?

Oh, right. Reece volunteering for that suicide mission. Like hell she'll get my permission for _that_. Also, "Did you know about that, Laura?" Why am I even asking, of course she did. She's Reece's fucking doctor. "Dee?" Don't look at me all innocent, Sergeant, I _know_ you've become chummy with her, even being on first name basis with her and everything. "Did _you_ know about that?" Wait, why am I even asking our counterparts? They sure as hell didn't know anything, with their Reece being _dead_ and everything. Anyway, "Why in God's name doesn't anyone but yourself know _that you have that freaky gene, Lieutenant_?"

Seriously, why didn't she tell me? I'm her goddamn superior, I should _know_ stuff like that and… "Alright, Tom, let's take this outside."

Hey! _Hey_! No dragging me off by the scruff of my t-shirt's neck, Laura! No… oh God, she means business. Aw, _fuck_.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Okay, that went way faster than I anticipated O_o Also, it's the first chapter I actually feel comfortable about, even though there's not a lot happening in the sense of plot. But man... are there things happening in there. It took a bit of an unexptected turn at some point (let's see if you can spot that point *coughs) but yeah... I actually like this one. Huh. Figure that.

* * *

**Seven**

_Greenspan_

I don't know whether it's the constant niggling of another entropic cascade failure seizure waiting just around the corner or the already present tension inside the team amplified by the sheer absurdity of being caught in an alternate reality but I am just really, really done with Tom's bullshit. Enough to shit on proper military conduct and just haul his ass out of there to knock some fucking _sense_ back into his head.

Interestingly, no one even tried to stop me. That does speak volumes about me not being the only one being fed up with Tom right now, doesn't it?

Anyway… I managed to drag him off far away enough to no one should be able to hear us. We're in another windowless broom closet, this one apparently serving as an actual storage closet, and I'm still pissed off enough that I need a moment to get myself together before speaking up. At least I'm faster than Tom, or I honestly wouldn't have been able to guarantee him leaving this room without any physical harm. "Okay, moron, what the fuck just got _into_ you?"

"Will you _knock it off_?" Only if _you_ knock it the fuck off, whatever's got your panties in a twist? "I'm still your fucking superior officer and…"

"And you're being an utter moron." Saying that in calm, matter-of-fact tone instead of just shouting it back at him honestly was one of the hardest things I ever accomplished.

Not that he appreciates any of that, though. "_Watch_ it, _Captain_!"

Okay, that's enough. I jab my index finger into his chest. "No, _you_ watch it. You just _lost_ it in there, in front of everyone and their fucking mother, after a _very_ reasonable and logical request from one of your subordinates." No, uh-uh, you're _not_ going to stop me from saying my piece now, no fucking way. "You asshole basically went ballistic at her over something _that was right there in her service jacket_ and that you could have read _eight weeks ago_ if you'd just _bothered_ to _actually do your fucking job_. You had _no_ right at jumping at her throat, for _any_ of the things she said and did!"

"I had _every_ right!" No. No, you didn't. You genuinely didn't. You… "She went behind my _back_, Laura! She broke _the fucking chain of command_. That kind of thing is _sacred_ and she _broke_ it!"

Not really, she didn't. And I'm _pretty_ sure that's not what made him explode like that, anyway. "She didn't _tattle_ on you, Tom, she volunteered for a mission crucial to get us all…"

"She volunteered for a fucking _suicide mission_!" And there it is. Anything else and he would have been fine with it. Actual, potentially self-sacrificing hard decisions _someone_ had to make to at least give us all a shot at going home and him not being the one to make those decisions, _that_ he can't abide.

Stupid self-absorbed asshole. "She volunteered to give us all a chance to get _home_!"

"She had… no right to make that decision, Laura. That decision wasn't hers to make. It wasn't _hers_ to make." If I didn't know better, I'd say I just heard a slight hitch in his voice, as if he's close to actually sobbing with frustration and something like sympathy tries to claw its way up in my head. I ignore it. Because that's exactly where he's going wrong.

"No," I tell him, unable to shout anymore, "it was hers alone to make."

"She… she's not… _ready_ to make decisions like that on her own." Really? Have you even _read_ the reports you've regularly given her in the last few months?

And what's with the sudden underlying desperation? I try not to sigh. "She's never been readier to make it."

He shakes his head. "I… I just…"

Not sighing and rubbing his back is becoming increasingly harder. "Can't give her wings and then expect her never to use 'em, Tom."

Instead of answering right away, he sits down on the crate next to him, his head in his hands, wrecking his hair. I know that look. It's the look of a man who just got defeated and who knows it. It's never pretty, especially when it's Tom looking like that, and I don't feel any triumph at having bested him, only a bitter aftertaste in the back of my mouth. I do sigh. "Tom…"

"He's gonna lose her."

…what? "Uh, excuse me?"

He shakes his head, gets up, starts pacing in the narrow lane between shelves packed with medical supplies. "_Him_. He's gonna get careless and _lose_ her."

Oh. Oh, he means his counterpart. And that really is the weirdest show of jealousy I have _ever_ had the misfortune to witness. "I don't think that's gonna hap…"

"He lost her once, Laura!" Oh good, we're back to the yelling. "He can't be trusted around her! He's fucking going to do it again!"

Most stupid load of crap I've heard all week, no kidding. I mean we don't even know how this reality's Reece died in the first place. I roll my eyes. "Tom, that's bullshit."

"No, it's not!" Yes. Yes, it is. "He _let her die_ once and he sure as hell will…"

_Enough_. "_Stop_ it! _He_ is _you_. He lost her once. The _one_ thing he's _never_ going to do again is _lose Maureen Reece_!"

Oh God. I didn't… I didn't even realize _how_ true that is and what that _means_ for all of us until I saw his face. Tom's usually hard to read unless you know which signs to look for but… even a semi-blind man could have pinpointed the _exact_ moment when he realized what I just said there. And it's _so_ much worse than I ever thought. I always knew that he had a little thing for her, and I thought it was harmless but you could actually _see_ the moment he realized that he's in _way_ over his head.

I move to apologize and I nearly overhear it because it's so quiet that the low hum of the air conditioning nearly makes it inaudible but yes, there it is. A very quiet, "'s not fair, Laura," and the worst thing is that he's _right_. None of that is fair; me spelling it out in black and white, the fact in itself… I shake my head.

There's just nothing we can do about it, and as a wise man once wrote, "_Life_ isn't fair, Tom. It's just fairer than death."

He makes an inarticulate sound, something between a growl and a very frustrated groan, before running a hand through his hair and telling me, with a dangerously nasty undertone to it, "Spare me the _Princess Bride_ quotes."

Okay, whatever. _Don't_ even think about trying to intimidate me with that bullshit. That never worked with me, and it's not working now. Just because you're embarrassed about what I just accidentally discovered doesn't mean you have any right to threaten me or get angry with me. I nearly give him the finger. Instead, I force myself to shrug. "I'm only telling it like it is. Take it or leave it, I honestly don't care." That's a lie, of course, because I _do_ care. I care about this team, about Tom and Maureen and Dee and me the gigantic implications of it all. I care so much that just vaguely thinking of it makes me terribly exhausted. So I choose not to. "But _don't_ keep her here just because you don't trust _yourself_ not to get her killed." There. That's a _much_ safer topic right now.

For a minute at least, I fully expect him to go back into ranting mode but all he gives me after his minute long silence is a rather defeated, "I hate it when you're right."

Oh God, now I can't help taking pity on him after all. I make a face. "Believe it or not but most of the time, I do, too." When he just rolls his eyes, I give him a little punch to the shoulder adding, "Come on, it's not over till is it's over."

He just clenches his jaw for a moment, then nods. Alright. That's settled, then, at least.

I don't expect him to ask me not to tell her because he's not that kind of guy and ours is not that kind of friendship and because we both know I'd rather bite off my tongue than endanger the team's integrity with something that, for _us_, was plainly spoken about but for everyone else are just nebulous insinuations. Instead, we just nod at each other and he takes a deep breath before turning the knob and stepping back out into the corridor.

We don't talk on the way back to our part of the infirmary and it's almost scary how I can see the shell that received a horribly deep crack when I accidentally dragged his dark little secret to the light harden again with each step, so fast and so brutally that by the time we arrive back, there's nothing left leaking through.

His only concession to his little outburst and my subsequent dragging him outside is nodding at O'Neill and Carter, doing his cocky asshole routine so convincingly that I almost wonder if anything that happened in the last couple minutes was even real. But then I see him looking at Maureen, who's trying so hard to look him squarely, bravely in the eye and nearly succeeding and I see the shell crack again, just a little bit. I wonder if she saw it, too.

"Sir…" Huh. Maybe she did. _Fuck_.

"Permission granted, Lieutenant." She narrows her eyes and maybe she didn't actually see the shell cracking, after all but she sure as hell knows that _something_'s going on. "Was I being _unclear_, Lieutenant?"

Oh great, and now he's being a passive aggressive asshole. God, get a _grip_ on yourself, Tom. She half moves to attention. "No, sir." Then _something_ changes in her bearing and… "So… if you'd all please excuse me, I need to… sort a few things out. Sir," she nods at O'Neill, "ma'am," and Carter and… then she's going. What…

For a moment, all I can do – all _any_ of us can do, really – is stare at the curtain she just disappeared through and then it's _my_ counterpart of all people who heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes. "I'll take care of that." To my eternal confusion, both O'Neill and Carter just nod at her and she follows Maureen behind the curtain.

_Right_. What the _fuck_ just happened here?

_Reece_

Okay, maybe that was dumb.

No, that was _definitely_ dumb.

Carter and O'Neill might not be _our_ Carter and O'Neill but they're still _Major Samantha Carter_ and _General Jack O'Neill_ and you don't just _walk out_ without being dismissed on people like them. You very formally ask for permission to be excused and then do a perfect about face. You really, really don't do that dumb thing that I just did.

Then again, I don't even know what exactly happened but there was _something_ about the Major, maybe his face or his bearing but… it was weird. It was really, really weird and it was _bad_ weird, so bad that I only knew I needed to get out of there and that's what I did. I walked out on _Major Samantha Carter_ and _General Jack O'Neill_ because "there was something weird about Major Moore".

Oh God, I just really, really need to sleep.

Softly sighing to myself, I decide to take the direct route to the guest quarters they assigned to me, not take another detour like the first time. Granted, it led to Major Carter finding a possible way home for us but yeah, it also resulted in the Major totally going off the rails about that whole ATA gene thing. I _swear_ I told him at some point. Or at least didn't outright lie to him about the outcome of my test.

Anyway, something about the reaction and the way he behaved when he was back from his little heart to heart with Laura was really just _off_ and honestly, just for one second, I caught myself wondering about leaving it all behind and joining the Atlantis Expedition, after all. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with the Major being weird and Laura and Dee dancing around each other anymore and honestly, right now, that totally sounds like _bliss_… and hey, another blissful thing just appeared: the door to my assigned quarters.

Breathing another sigh – this time of relief – I key in the sequence they gave me and… were those two SFs with me the entire time? Man, I really suck, did I mention that?

Okay, whatever, I can still take care of that tomorrow. Now: sleep. Glorious, wonderful…

_No_.

Fucking knock on my door and just _no_. I'm done with today, all I want is to _sleep_, and _please_… "Open up, I know you're in there, your personal SFs just told me."

…Laura?

I blink. Shouldn't she be… no, wait. Not _my_ Laura. The _other_ Laura.

That realization takes me so off-guard that before I even know it, I just opened the door and yep, there she is. I frown at her. "With all due respect but what are _you_ doing here?" Captain. This one is a Captain, too. "Ma'am."

She gives me an apologetic smile. "Just, you know, making sure you're okay."

Oh, good. I'm still frowning. "Yeah, I am, thanks for asking. Now…"

"You're just so… like her." Oh God, not _that_ again. "And, uh, _not_ like her." Uh-huh. Can we get _any more_ cliché? "Anyway, sorry, that was probably a dumb idea. Honestly, sorry for disturbing…"

"Do you want to come in?" _Why_ did I just ask her that?

Oh, right. Because she is, after all, still Laura. I mean, not _my_ Laura but she's _a_ Laura and, to be honest, to date she's the only one who even _tried_ to make an effort to talk to us. Twice, to be precise. She smiles. "Yeah, sure. If that's okay for you." It's not but honestly, I'm pretty sure that there is no universe out there in which Laura Greenspan _doesn't_ get what Laura Greenspan wants.

I step aside and she comes walking in, looking around and then settling down in the chair by the little desk at the foot of the bed. "So…"

"So I'm fine." Ah, shit, channeling the Major much, Lieutenant?

"Yeah, I got that from the way you very politely excused yourself before storming out on a crowd which was three quarters above your pay grade." Right. And _this_ is how you will _always_ recognize the Laura Greenspan in any universe.

"I'm…"

"Not as sorry as you should have been, are you?" _Goddammit_.

I should just throw her out and get some goddamn sleep but strangely, all I do is drag myself over to the bed and sit down on it, to wearily chuck off my boots. For a moment, I contemplate telling her about the Major and the weird something about him and the tension that's been there lately and the Atlantis thing but in the end… I'm a coward. I decide for a completely different road. "You know, since you're already here and everything: what _is_ your Major Moore's problem with me? And _our_ Major Moore, for that matter."

Because _that's_ also been bugging the hell out of me. When the Major and Laura had their little heart to heart, I could _feel_ the other Major's stare on me, and I wasn't even in his line of sight. And honestly, if I'm supposed to go on a mission into Replicator territory with them, I damn well should know about any problems, shouldn't I?

Yeah, that's right, I _definitely_ should and… "It's not your fault." Uh-huh. Coulda fooled me. "It's just… you look like her and sound like her." Yes, we established that already. "But you aren't _her_."

That… didn't explain _anything_. Or at least not as much as I hoped it would. "I'm sorry but could you please be a _little_ more specific?"

I can see her thinking hard about this for a surprising amount of time – they probably got the same policy about, when in doubt, never to reveal more than _absolutely_ necessary – but in the end, she finally says, "Maureen and Tom, they had something." Oh, okay.

"And by something you mean…"

"They weren't exactly dating but everyone knew it was only a question of time and four weeks ago, we went on a mission." Only… a question of time? Suddenly, I do _not_ like where this is going. Not at _all_. "Total cliché, complete with a wedding ritual and everything and well… apparently, they decided to give it a shot afterward."

Oh.

_Oh_.

Oh _God_. "And three weeks ago…"

"Yeah. Three weeks ago." I'm not sure how to react to that. I'm not even sure how I feel about that. "It was… so pointless. We were low on milk and a couple other groceries, and I was on combat medic duty so she took my car to get them. It was… they're still not sure what exactly happened but it must have been some idiot ramming into the driver side with full force." A car wreck? My counterpart didn't die on a mission but on a grocery run, just because some asshole didn't know how to drive safely? I might actually get sick now. I don't even know why but something in that makes me want to dry heave, hyperventilate, something like that.

I try to get myself under control, stay on target here. "Were… I mean, was anyone with her when she…"

Alternate Laura nods. "Yeah. They were closer to Peterson than to the SGC so they brought her there. Tom, as her superior, was the first in her list of emergency contacts and they got him. He must have seen her when she was still alive, must have talked to her because when I finally made it there, he just came out of her cubicle." I… need air. I don't even know why this is so terrible but for some reason, all I keep seeing is _my_… _our_ Major sitting in the ER at Peterson, after having… God, I just _can't_. "He… huh, I'm pretty sure that he hasn't said three words since he came out of that cubicle. Didn't even tell me that she never made it. He just… came out and sat down on the floor, his back to wall and stayed there for at least an hour. Since then…"

She makes a helpless gesture of defeat and it's honestly tearing at my heartstrings. We had a couple close calls as a team, yes, but we never had to deal with something like _that_ and all of a sudden, I'm really, really grateful for that. Finally, so many things about this team make sense. They way they were staring at me, the lack of conversation among themselves, even the alternate Major's hostility to _my_ I mean _our_ Major; it all just makes sense. They're a team who's a man short, a team that isn't a real SG team anymore, an oddity here.

I can't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I shouldn't have asked. That was…"

"Alright. Don't worry, it was okay." God, she's so much like Laura it hurts. "You deserved to know, after volunteering for a suicide mission. And getting yelled at by your commanding officer. What in God's name was that about anyway?"

I shrug, kind of grateful for the change of topic and kind of pissed off about it having to be _that_ topic. I grunt. "Damned if I know."

She gives me a weird look, like she knows something but can't tell me because I need to figure it out for myself for some inane reason. I wish people wouldn't do that. "Well," she says after another weird moment of looking at me all strangely, "I guess it's late and you look like you need your sleep. Are you gonna be okay here?"

If _anyone_ asks me that _one_ more time, I'm gonna _scream_. For now, though, I just swallow the bitchy retort. "Yes, ma'am. Thanks for telling me about… you know."

She makes an apologetic face. "Anytime. Briefing's 0800 tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

Would I _ever_? "No, ma'am. Night ma'am."

With another little smile – this time kind of… encouraging? – she takes her leave and then it's just me and the potted plant in the corner. Okay. That was just really weird. Let's just, uh, try the sleep thing, huh? I'm tired enough for _three_ nights, at least.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Okay, another chapter that wrote itself faster than I anticipated, which is a good thing. Unfortunately, I have feeling that won't be the case with the next chapter so please bear with me if that update takes longer than just a few days. I promise I'll try to hurry!

* * *

**Eight**

_Moore_

This just isn't my day. From nearly getting yelled at by Maureen Reece for doubting her statement that really, she _is_ the only available off-world qualified linguist at the moment, to _actually_ getting yelled at by Laura for not wanting my linguist to go off on a suicide mission into fucking _Replicator_ territory, it's just been one hellish ride into dread and misery. And landing ourselves into an alternate reality doesn't even rate first among all the crappy things that happened to date.

Nope, that honor goes to a different thing.

Because believe it or not, having my best friend spelling it out to me in black and white that I'm so head over heels for my linguist that I'm jealous of _myself _ before I even came to that conclusion myself was definitely the low point of my day. Honestly, I'd just tried so hard _not_ to make it too obvious and then Laura goes and blurts it out, just like that. The only thing even _worse_ than that would have been if she'd done it in front of everyone. So I even have to be _grateful_ to her for dragging me away like a petulant four-year-old.

Really, all you can do about this day is passing the remainder unconscious. Sleeping, I mean, not passed out because of another seizure that I just can _feel_ building up way in the back of my head and… "Aren't you supposed to stay in the infirmary?"

And the hits _just_ keep coming.

Because honestly, that _last_ thing I wanted to encounter on my way back from the bathroom is running into that guy who looks like me, sounds like me, sneaks up on people like me. And yet here he is, frowning at me in a hallway just outside the infirmary. Somewhere, some deity or higher being is probably just laughing its ass off.

I try to give him my best evil stare which probably will do nothing since with my luck, he has exactly the same reaction to people annoying him. "What are you gonna do, call the cops?"

Thank God none of my teammates are here. Every single one of them would probably have tried various versions of grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me away from a fight with myself. But honestly, that guy had it coming, right from the first minute we stepped through this reality's gate.

For a moment, it looks like he actually considers either calling one of the omnipresent SFs hovering in the background or just subduing me himself but then he just shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. Is that how I look when I don't really know what to say? "Look, I just wanted to…" What? You wanted to _what_? "We'll take care of her. I just wanted to say that."

Take care of… oh. Reece. He must mean Reece. If he's anything like me… he must have struggled a while to bring himself to come here, give a promise that's practically impossible to keep. I _never_ give that kind of promise because once I do, I feel bound to keep it, would risk everything to keep it. That he did it anyway, well… I can appreciate that. I nod. "Yeah, you better."

Okay, I could have phrased _that_ a bit more diplomatic but then again, if he is me, he knows what I meant to say, right? Right. I'm sure he does. So, I guess that is that and I can… "I know how to take care of my people, _Major_. Even if technically, they aren't _my_ people. I'll do whatever I have to do to get her back home safely."

_Right_. Apparently, that _wasn't_ that. How come he's being so chatty all of a sudden? I decide to be cautious. "I never said you wouldn't."

"_I_ would have." Okay. I have to be honest. I didn't expect him to answer _that_.

Then again, I probably should have. It's something _I_ would have said, were our roles reversed. Doesn't mean I have to get chummy with him, though. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I know you don't trust me." Well, true. "And quite frankly, I wouldn't trust _you_, either." Good choice, buddy. "Mostly because I know myself." And you don't trust yourself.

Just like I have issues with trusting myself always to make the _right_ decision. This is honestly getting way too metaphysical for me. Guys, I majored in Computer Science, I'm really just not cut out for this second guessing, inception kind of stuff. Please, give me a _break_? I snort and then take a deep breath, shaking my head. "This is, without doubt, the most fucked up thing that ever happened to me."

It makes him… snort. And grin. The same humorless, cynical grin I can't help grinning whenever I find myself in a situation where _nothing_ is funny. "Tell me about it."

Ah, shit. That guy really is _me_ and that is probably the _only_ reason why I'm stupid enough to say this, "Look, just a… well. Could you _stop_ giving her those _looks_? Pretty sure they're making her really uncomfortable."

Oh God, she's gonna hate me if she ever finds out about that. More than she already does, I mean. And he fucking _knows_ it. "Pretty sure she's capable of telling me that herself."

Yeah, technically, she is. But this is Maureen Reece we're talking about here. Maureen Reece is, without doubt, the most polite and discrete Marine I ever encountered. Telling a field grade she doesn't know – even if, _technically_, she does know him – to stop doing something is about the last thing she'll be doing, at least for at least another two months. And then she'll blow up _right_ into his face. I try to hide how much it scares me how well I know her by now by sounding a lot more casual than I feel. "She is. Doesn't mean she has to."

It makes him smirk and now I finally get why Laura and Reece always look like they're about to forcefully wipe it off my face when _I_ do that. I look like I need a good slap across the face, goddammit. "She's gonna give you hell if she ever finds out you went behind her back to tell me that."

I shrug. "I can live with that." It's not a complete lie. There's been more than one instance when Reece, in her unmatched way of silently glaring at you and judging you with a few well-placed "Oops, did I just say that out loud?" words, told me exactly what she thinks of whatever shit I just did and hey, look at me. I survived each and every one of them! Even with almost all of my dignity intact. It's just that really, lately it's been feeling more and more scathing whenever I apparently don't meet her standards on whatever it is this week.

Let's just really not think about that, now, though. Because if I did, I'd have to admit that my little outburst earlier today absolutely was one of those instances and… "So, what I was wondering: you two never…" _Goddammit_.

Does he _have_ to do that? Keep asking me stupid stuff out of the blue, stuff like _that_? And not even having the balls to just spell it out? I decide to be difficult about this, _just because I can_. And because I know it will annoy the shit out of him. "Never what?"

"Never mind." Uh-huh. Good thing our roles aren't reversed on this one. I sure as hell would be dying of shame inside right now.

This is way more fun than it should be. "No really, did we never _what_?"

He glares at me, knowing full well just how _much_ I'm enjoying this. And here I thought my inner troll had to stay silent for the rest of the mission. I can _see_ how much he wants to roll his eyes and sigh but in the end, he apparently forces himself to sound casual when asking, "You two never had anything else than a professional work relationship?"

I have to be honest. I kind of was hoping that he wouldn't have the guts to say it, in any way or shape but now he did and I immediately feel myself wanting to tell him how we didn't and how I fucking _regret_ that. Laura would probably tell me that it's never too late and just try it but let's be realistic here. Maureen Reece would _never_ even consider changing our relationship into what my double just hinted at. I'm just not the kind of guy women like her find attractive or deserve. I'm not smart enough or eloquent enough or just basically _whole_ enough. I'm thirty years old and I have more scars than most people twice my age have. I have seen more shit than most people see in their entire _life_. That's not the kind of guy she wants.

I shake my head. "No. Why would anyone…"

"Good." Huh? "Keep it that way." Now, listen here you little…

Oh.

_Oh_.

I can't believe it took me so long to… _He_ did. He _had_ something that wasn't exactly professional with _his_ Maureen Reece. Of _course_ he did. There's no other explanation for the way he just said that. No jealousy, as I'd originally thought. Regret. So _much_ regret.

It wasn't a warning to stay away from her because he thinks I'm not worthy of her. It was a warning to stay away from her because he thought he'd been worthy and because she'd ended up dead somehow, anyway. "I…"

"Night, Major. Excuse me, I need to… Oh. Lieutenant." Huh. What… I blink and turn around and oh, hey, Reece. What are you… "Anyway, see you tomorrow." And with that, he's gone. And I'm suddenly stuck with my Lieutenant. Who's wearing track pants and a t-shirt and walking around barefoot in the SGC. And who might or might not have heard parts of that last conversation. I'm screwed.

Thankfully, Reece is just as flustered as I am and a lot worse than me at hiding it. "Oh, I'm… sorry, sir. I just… I think I'll just return to…"

Return to her quarters. Yes. That would be good. So I definitely shouldn't be saying, "_Or_ you could tell me what's got you traipsing around the SGC barefoot in the middle of the night."

Okay, so it's not the _middle_ of the night yet but the noticeable lack of hustle and bustle in the infirmary tells me that the graveyard shift must have started about an hour or so ago and that definitely counts as "close to the middle of night", at least.

"Oh, sir, I really don't… I'm sorry." Yeah, you said that already. Even though you don't have anything to be sorry about that,

Me, on the other hand… Well. "Come on, no more apologizing. I'm not… I'm not mad at you, I just want to know why you're still up so late." And walking around the SGC in your pajamas. And barefoot.

Okay, yes, it's really weird how that barefoot part in particular keeps catching my interest. It's not like I haven't seen her in clothes other than BDUs before and it's not like I haven't seen her _barefoot_ before, either but somehow, seeing her walking around in pajamas and without shoes in the _SGC_ seems to be a whole new level for me. Makes her look… younger. Vulnerable.

Oh goody, my protector complex just kicked in. Maybe it's better if I send her back to her quarters, after… "It's nothing special, sir. Just…" She shrugs, looking a little forlornly. Oh _God_.

I _should_ send her back to bed. I really, really should. I _shouldn't_ tell her, "Oh for God's sake, stop playing hard to get. And while we're at it, let's get back inside or some really worried doctor will appear here out of thin air and curse me or something."

Was that a long suffering sigh I just heard? _Was_ it? "Alright, sir. Just… a few minutes. If that's okay for you." Okay, maybe it was but I honestly don't care. Because you know, her saying yes to my stupid suggestion hopefully means that she doesn't hold a grudge over me having been a superior idiot.

I just nod at her, walking back to the area they cordoned off for us. Inside, the only light still on is the one by my bed. Both Laura and Dee seem to be asleep already, which kind of is a good thing. I don't need either or even both of them watching my every move with Reece because they're afraid I'm going to read her the riot act again or something equally stupid. So it's just the two of us awake now, with me doing the night nurse who's supposed to monitor us from the next room a favor by actually slipping under my covers and Reece still visibly uncomfortable sitting down on the bed next to mine. Alright. Entertain her. I can do that. I clear my throat. "So, Kid… shouldn't you be in bed, what with your big mission tomorrow and everything?"

_Greenspan_

Damn, I should have just kept reading my papers instead of pretending to be asleep so the night nurse won't bother me. Because then I would have been able to glower at Tom to leave Maureen alone and take her aside, have a little nightly chat with her myself. She must be scared sick, what with that mission tomorrow and everything and now all she has to talk her down is _Tom_ of all people. Really, not a good combination.

And yeah, I can even _hear_ her hesitating, sheets rustling as if she's shifting around a little uncomfortably.

Then, "No." Good. Show him you're not intimidated at all. "I mean yes." No, no back paddling. Don't… "I just…"

"Can't sleep?" Wait. Was that uh actual compassion I just heard in his voice?

I mean, maybe Maureen didn't hear it because it was really subtle but I _swear_ it was there. Oh God, can't even open my eyes or they'll know I'm not asleep. Damn, damn, damn. "Something like that, yeah."

I wish I could have seen her reaction as well as hear it but I take it she shrugged and _tried_ to look unimpressed or at least casual.

"Scared?" And most probably, she didn't succeed, if even Tom could see well enough to ask her _without_ a trace of sarcasm or arrogance. Instead, only genuine kindness in it. _What_ is going on here?

"No, sir." Yeah sure, uh-huh. You're not scared, Maureen. No way. Only even I could hear it in your voice that you're scared _shitless_, and I didn't even have to _see_ you to know that. "It's just… every time someone mentions that my counterpart from this reality died, it feels like someone just walked over my grave."

Right. There's silence and I wish I could see what's going on between the two of them. Ever since the little heart to heart I had with Tom, I couldn't help wondering what he's going to do about it, _if_ he's going to do anything about it. Knowing him, he'll probably just hunker down and hope it goes away on its own. It's always been his preferred tactic in this kind of thing, and usually it backfired one way or the other. So, not putting much hope in it working this time, either.

Also, I keep wondering about Maureen's side of the whole thing. She never gave any verbal hint about how she personally feels about the Major but I remember the small things, like her coming down into his living room in his clothes after the all-nighter we pulled when we were trying to pin Dee down in April and shooting down _any_ questions on my part immediately – I _still_ don't know exactly what went down between the two of them to generate _that_ result – and the same Falcons boxing team t-shirt reappearing a week later in our laundry basket and then in irregular intervals on _her_.

There were a few other things like that – books he casually mentioned appearing on her nightstand a few days later, cups of fresh coffee appearing on Tom's desk during paperwork marathons neither Dee nor I put there, the way she kept looking and quietly smiling at the ridiculous little NYC snow glove he gave her for her birthday in January she placed on her desk, that kind of thing – and honestly, I think we have a problem here.

A _huge_ problem and… "You know, I wish I had a smart answer to that but… you know me."

Aw, Tom, don't. Don't do the whole shrugging and making an apologetic face thing you've _got_ to be doing right now, even if I can only hear you. She's totally gonna fall for that one, because she always does. Because she's just as head over heels as _you_ and honestly, I really think I should _intervene_ now or be silent forever or some such nonsense.

"No, it's fine, sir." Oh no, she has the "I'm very amused about you but you're my superior officer so I'll try not to be too hard on you" undertone. He likes that one. I _know_ he does. This really can't be good. "Okay, I guess I should be going, sorry for keeping you awake. That really wasn't my…"

"Hey, you know, Kid, it's okay to be scared." Oh, and _now_ he chooses to be sensitive? Asshole. "Replicators are nasty little bastards no one likes to take on. You're gonna be okay, though."

Great. And here I always thought he _sucked_ at pep talk. He's actually really good at it, when he chooses to be. Maybe… I won't intervene _just_ yet.

"You think so, sir?" I can hear a little smile in her voice, brave and just barely there.

"Yeah." And there it is; the half grin, the one that's just a little too cocky, a little too self-assured. The one half the female cadets were swooning over. "You got an excellent team with you."

There's a small sound from her, something… oh, that was a _laugh_. He actually managed to make her _laugh_. This really isn't getting any better. "Yeah, guess I do." If I didn't know better, I'd say they were _flirting_. Ugh, disturbing thought. Maybe _now_… "It's just… this is kinda a foreign base and…"

She doesn't finish the sentence and I'm positive that I just heard a big heap of homesickness there. Alright, here we go again, cue Tom making fun of her or being too flustered to… "Kid…" Yep, totally too flustered to cope with human beings who happen to have emotions. Just great. Here comes the train wreck. "You know… tell you what, you just lie down on that cot and let me tell you a couple of those Academy stories you like so much." …_what_? Hey, that's not how it's supposed to go.

Honestly, I sure hope she's going to decline now, telling him again that she needs to go… "Nuh-uh, no buts." Right. At least, apparently, she _tried_ to excuse herself. Unsuccessfully, but yeah, can't blame her when he uses _that_ tone. "I _know_ you love them when Laura tells them and believe me, I've got a couple that are even better than hers." Oh no, you _don't_. "So, be a good little Marine, lie down and listen."

That… sounded totally wrong and I hope he _knows_ that. From the slightly miffed way, Maureen tells him, "Yes, sir," _she_ definitely did.

"Now there's a good Lieutenant." Not getting any better here, Tom! "So, did Laura ever tell you about her first hangover between her Third and Second Year at the Academy?" No, oh God, please not _that_ story. There's a _reason_ I haven't told her about it! Don't even think about… "Thought so." No, _thinking_ was pretty much the _last_ thing you just did. "Okay, this is how it went…"

Alright, this is it. I open my eyes, after all and… just don't have the heart to go through with ending this little round of storytelling. I can't see much because most of Tom's body is obscuring my view of Maureen but I can see him actually shake with laughter while telling her how he found me hiding in the shrubs and just on the verge of being violently sick behind the house my mother and I moved to after my father died and my brothers decided to be superior assholes in favor of being decent human beings and I can hear her corresponding snort and even a little giggle.

I swear, I have never seen or heard either of them being so comfortable with each other. There are still little signs of hesitation, some holding back, some awkwardness but yeah, _something_ definitely changed between the two of them. And I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or not. But yeah… we really got bigger problems right now. Like, for example, finally falling asleep. Guess I'm just gonna work on that for now and cross every other bridge when I get to them. It's too late in the night for anything else, really.


End file.
